


The Confusions of Two Nobodies

by chratt (orphan_account)



Category: Game Grumps, Kids With Problems, supermega
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Car Sex, Coming of Age, Eventual Smut, First Times, Growing Up, M/M, Unrequited Love, small town, underaged drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:40:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/chratt
Summary: Two nobodies in Columbia, South Carolina just never seem to get it right. Until they do.





	1. Chapter 1

Ryan doesn’t really pay attention when his teacher begins to talk to the class. Instead, he’s doing the homework that’s do. Ryan’s pretty sure Mrs. Thompson will kidnap him and make him do spelling worksheets for life in her basement if he doesn’t turn one in. Or he’ll just get another phone call home. Either way, he makes the call that whatever Mrs. Thompson’s talking about is less important than his due homework, and blocks out Mrs. Thompson to concentrate on spelling the word vegetable. He ignores Mrs. Thompson, even as she walks over to his table, an unfamiliar face following close behind her.

“Ryan?” She repeats.

Ryan jumps, slamming his pencil down and turning to face her.

“I wasn’t doing my homework,” he says quickly, “There was a mark on it, I was just erasing it.”

Mrs. Thompson cackles, “Oh, Ryan. I was just asking you to scoot your chair in so our new classmate can sit down.” Oh. He does what he’s asked, inching closer to the table and allowing this stranger to sit next to him. Before heading back to the front of the classroom, she holds out her hand for the stranger to take. “Ryan’s going to help you around, so don't hesitate to ask him for help! I hope you enjoy Columbia, Matthew.”

They're quiet, just staring at each other as Mrs. Thompson slithers back towards the front of the classroom. Matthew is short and lanky, with big blue eyes that blink around the room anxiously, avoiding Ryan’s gaze. Ryan should probably introduce himself, but instead notes how he could probably wrap his hand around Matt’s pale, thin wrist. Finally, Matthew speaks, almost too quiet for Ryan to hear.

“I don't like Mrs. Thompson.”

“Me neither!” Ryan whisper-shouts. Matthew’s lips curl into a small grin, but he frowns quickly, sitting up and craning his neck to get a good look at her.

“She always calls me Matthew, but I don't go by Matthew.”

“What do you go by?”

“Just Matt.”

Ryan fights back a laugh, “Okay, Just Matt. I'm Ryan.”

“I'm too old for this.” Matt sighs, before breaking character to laugh.

“What does that mean?”

“I don't know, my dad says it a lot.”

“Oh,” Ryan nods. Suddenly he smiles, proudly. “I’m ten. How old are you?”

“You're ten?” Matt asks, wide eyed. “I’m only eight!”

“Uh-huh,” Ryan nods again. “I'm the oldest one here.”

“Older than Mrs. Thompson?” Matt smiles crookedly again.

Ryan sticks out his tongue. “Dude, no way. She's like four-hundred years old!”

“She looks like she’s half-snake.” Matt comments, and both of their eyes follow her scaly form as she glides across the floor to eat help a student.

“That's what I thought!” Ryan beams. “I think we’re going to be friends, Just Matt.”

“We won't be, if you keep calling me that.” Matt frowns, but only for a moment before he begins to smile again. “I'm just kidding. You're my first friend in Columbia, Ryan.”

Ryan grins at that fact. “Really? You're not my first friend in Columbia. But you're already a better friend than Marcus over there.” Ryan jerks his thumb behind him, and Matt looks behind him to stare at a smaller kid at a different table.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He didn't invite me to his birthday party last week.”

“That dumb.” Says Matt.

“I know!” Says Ryan.

“When I have my birthday party, I’ll invite you.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

“Matt, Ryan? Are you guys working over there?” Mrs. Thompson asks; Ryan watches her eyes transform into slits and her forked tongue shoots out as Matt grabs the two untouched papers on the table.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Matt says politely, handing Ryan the paper. “Okay, let's get this paper done before done before she comes over here and eats us.”

 

They get the worksheet done just in time for their morning snack, and the margins of their papers are filled with drawings of snake-ladies that Mrs. Thompson says are, “absolutely stunning, boys!”. Ryan shares his snack with Matt and decides that they're going to be friends forever. Matt, after taking several pretzels, agrees. At recess, they play cops and robbers at recess, and Ryan totally lets Matt win; afterwards, they race around the playground, accidentally bumping into Marcus whenever they see him on the ground.

When the final bell rings, Ryan is elated to find that Matt is even on his bus. Matt stares in awe at Ryan’s super cool lizard backpack, and he almost makes Ryan miss his stop by telling him a cool story about the bearded lady he saw at Myrtle Beach.

“Bye, Matt!” Ryan says as he slings his bag over his shoulder and steps over him into the aisle.

“See you tomorrow, Ryan!” Matt responds, and after Ryan gets off the bus, he waves at Ryan from the window, smooshing his face against the glass.

Ryan runs after the bus as it takes off, trying to wave back to Matt. Once the yellow bus is out of sight, he grips his backpack straps and walks home.

 

His mom is there to greet him when he gets home, and reveals a pack of gushers from behind her back as she sits next to Ryan at the kitchen table.

“So,” she asks, eyes bright and eager, “how was your first day of third grade?”

Ryan nods, mouth full of gushers as he speaks, “Good! Matt and I drew pictures of 

Mrs. Thompson all day. He likes my backpack.”

“Who’s Matt, sweetie? A friend?”

“Best friend.” He corrects her.

His mom nods, smile stretching across her face. “Best friend, wow. Why don't you ask Matt if he can come over this weekend? But you have to clean your room, first.”

“Really? Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” He wraps his arms around his mom, quick and tight, before pulling away and sliding off his bag, leaving it on the chair as he runs to his room. “I'm going to clean my room right now, bye Mom!”

 

Matt comes over to Ryan’s house that Saturday. And the next Saturday, and the next Saturday. It becomes strange when they don't see each other on the weekends, and when Matt goes back to Charleston during Thanksgivings’ Break, Ryan feels like he’s going to go insane from boredom. They make up for this loss of play-date by instead having a sleepover during the Winter Break. Ryan burns his tongue on the hot cocoa that Mrs. Watson makes for him, but he loves it all the same; the snow that finds its way under his coat does little to distract him from the group effort of making a snow fort in Matt's front yard, and they manage to scare Mr. Watson so bad, he slips and falls onto the driveway.

During Spring Break, both Matt and Ryan are out of town, but when they come back to school, they come back with souvenirs and toys and rocks and sand. Matt holds up a brown rock to Ryan's face, gleaming as he tells him that "it's the exact color of your eyes!", to which Ryan responds by grabbing a blue bottle cap that he found because he did the exact same thing for Matt’s eyes.

Finally, the year is over, and the summer heat serves as a blessing as a curse to Ryan. Neither him nor Matt have a pool, but they visit the local pool at least three times a week. When Ryan’s mom drops Matt off after a more rowdy pool outing, she invites Matt to the Myrtle Beach fair, and upon hearing that, Ryan launches out of his seat. Mrs. Watson and Mrs. Magee plan the trip over a cup of coffee, giving Matt and Ryan enough time to finish playing Alien Attack in Matt’s garage.

 

The trip to Myrtle Beach takes two hours, which roughly equates to signing “500 bottles of pop on the wall” once and 20 rounds of “I-Spy”. By the time they get there, Ryan’s parents seem more eager to escape the car than the two boys, who hold hands as they walk onto the grounds.

“I don’t like crowds.” Ryan tells Matt, staying close as they pass a group of people, loud and cheering.

Matt’s brow furrows and he grips Ryan’s hand tighter. “I won’t lose you, don’t worry.”

The animals are loud and smelly, but that doesn’t stop Ryan and Matt from insisting upon feeding them all, even though they have to wash their hands three times before they can no longer smell the farm animals on them. The snow cones they get are bigger than their heads, and Ryan’s dad begins to think of an apology to Matt’s parents as they oogle the cups of syrupy goodness, each cup holding enough sugar to put a small animal in a coma. Ryan points at Matt’s blue lips, laughing as Matt tries to wipe the stains from his face. In his elated state, Ryan tips his snow cone over, spilling his treat onto the ground. He pouts, crossing his arms and huffing, until Matt offers to share his snow cone, and they both proudly don their stained-blue smiles for the rest of the night.

“Hey, Ryan?”

“Yeah?” Ryan glances at him, pulling him towards the Ferris Wheel.

“You know how you don’t like crowds?” Matt digs his heels into the ground, making Ryan’s momentum stagger. “I don’t like heights.”

Ryan gapes at him. “But it’s Myrtle Beach! They have the best ferris wheel! We have to go on it!”

“I don’t know…”

“I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” Matt holds up his pinky. Ryan takes it in his. They’re fingers are sticky from the snow cone, but they don’t mind.

 

Ryan loves watching the people turn into ants as they slowly begin their ascension to the top of the world. Matt does not seem as thrilled, clutching Ryan’s arm with white knuckles. When they stop, they stop at the very top, and Matt peers over the ledge, before shaking his head and retreating back to the seat.

“Do you feel sick?” Ryan asks, sitting next to him. “Don’t barf on me, barf off the side of the cart.”

Matt shakes his head, wrapping his arms around Ryan and hiding his head in his shoulder. “Everything is so small up here.” He mumbles.

Ryan nods. “Yeah, it’s great!” Ryan shifts, prying himself away from Matt’s grip. Once he has space, he grabs Matt's hand and squeezes it. “Here, watch this,” he clears his throat. “I’m at the top of the world!” He shouts to the sky, before turning to Matt. “Now it’s your turn!”

“I-I’m at the top of the world?” He asks. Ryan frowns, gesturing for him to do it again.

“Louder.”

“I’m at the top of the world!” he says, louder.

“I’m at the top of the world!” Ryan demonstrates.

“I’m at the top of the world!” Matt laughs, finally reaching Ryan’s volume.

“We’re at the top of the world!” Ryan shouts.

“We’re at the top of the world!” Matt repeats.

And they were.

 

The ride home is much more quiet, much more peaceful for Ryan’s parents. When they make it to Matt’s house, they take pictures of Matt and Ryan, mouths upturned and stained blue; their arms are draped around each other in a manner that makes both Matt and Ryan’s parents beam.

* * *

 

They've evolved to more mature games. Alien Attack was a game for children. But as fifth graders, Matt and Ryan have matured greatly, they think. They’re sprawled out on Matt’s bed, reading a Spider-Man comic and laughing at the silly voices they project onto the characters.

“The Green Goblin wouldn't sound like that!” Matt interjects.

“You wouldn't know that! Maybe he had a cold or something!” Ryan frowns, before dissolving into a fit of laughter. 

From outside, they hear a car pull out of the driveway, and Matt’s laughter quiets down after he glances out his window to watch his sister drive off. He rolls onto his side to look at Ryan with excited eyes. “Want to see something cool?”

“Yeah,” Ryan nods, sitting up and letting his feet dangle off the bed.

“Sam’s boyfriend gave this to me.” Matt says, pushing Ryan off his mattress and slipping his hand underneath the mattress. “Max told me to keep it here, so my parents won't see it.”

Ryan looks at Matt with awe; he’s never gone behind his parents’ backs before, and peers over Matt's shoulder as he pulls out a magazine.

“What’s in it?”

“Girls.” Matt says, eyes bright as he flips it open and shows Ryan one of the photographs.

“She’s not wearing clothes.” Ryan comments.

“I think that's the point.” Matt shrugs.

The woman on the page is in a weird pose. “Isn't she cold?”

“Probably.” Matt pauses. “Max said that it's about time we start looking at girls like this.”

Ryan opens his mouth to speak, but there is a knock on the door that makes Matt wedge the dirty magazine back under his bed, lunging onto the bed and grabbing the comic book.

“Boys?”

“Yes, Mom?” Matt asks innocently.

“Lunch is ready,” she grins, “I made your favorites!”

Matt and Ryan look at each other, before racing down the stairs, forgetting about the magazine entirely.

 

They’ve decided to make it a sort of tradition, where Ryan’s parents take Matt to the Myrtle Beach fair every summer. According to Matt, he’s not afraid of the ferris wheel anymore, but he still insists on holding Ryan’s hand.

“You know, a ferris wheel would be a good place to kiss a girl.” Matt tells him.

“Ew,” Ryan laughs, turning his attention away from the lights below them to look at Matt strangely.

“You’re thirteen!” Matt nudges him, laughing as well. “You’ve never thought of kissing girls yet?”

Ryan shakes his head. “Kissing’s gross.”

“My dad says that when I grow up, I’ll be a real charmer for the ladies.” Matt says, smirking as he peers out of the cart. “Hey, I can see your parents from here!”

After they wave at Ryan’s parents, Ryan asks, “Who would you kiss up here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Ashley?”

“Ashley Waters?” Ryan snickers. “She wears too much perfume.”

“She told me she got it from her older sister,” Matt shrugs, “I think it smells nice.”

“What will happen if you get her up here and you don’t know how to kiss?”

Matt frowns. “I don’t really know.”

“Maybe we could kiss? So that when you’re up here with Ashley Waters, you’ll be a pro at it?”

“Yeah, yeah! Okay-” he turns to Ryan, their knees touching. “How do we start?”

“I think you just close your eyes and lean forward,” Ryan tells him.

“What if- how about you close your eyes, and I’ll lean in and kiss you? I think the boy is supposed to kiss the girl first.”

“Why do I have to be the girl?”

“Because I have to practice for Ashley!”

“Alright, alright.” Ryan closes his eyes and waits. Seconds later, there’s still nothing, and he opens his eyes just in time to see Matt inches away from his face. He shuts his eyes as he feels lips on his own.

They’re both still, but Ryan can taste popcorn on Matt’s lips. They pull away seconds later.

“Kissing you isn’t that gross,” Ryan tells him, breaking the silence. “But I still think Ashley Waters is gross.”

“I think you’re just jealous.” Matt laughs.

“Maybe I am,” Ryan tells him, “Who will I ride the ferris wheel with next year if you’re here with some dumb girl?”

“I’ll ride it twice, once with you and once with her.” Matt tells him. “Or you can sit across from us.”

“While you guys kiss? No thanks,” He laughs, elbowing Matt. “A dumb girl won’t replace me, right? We’ll still be best friends?”

“Of course, Ryan! Best friends forever,” Matt holds out his pinky, “Pinky promise.”

Ryan intertwines his own pinky with Matt’s and they don’t pull apart until they’ve reached the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

In the fall of sixth grade, Matt breaks his arm and it's totally Ryan’s fault, Matt just won't admit it. No matter how many times Matt tells him it's his own fault, he shouldn't have been climbing that tree, Ryan points out that he should have been ready to catch him.

“We shouldn't even climb that tree anymore. We've— well,  _ I’ve  _ grown.” He smirks, laughing when Ryan shoves him in the hallway.

“I've grown too!”

“Yeah, but you've kept your baby cheeks.” Matt says, pinching Ryan’s face.

Ryan swats his hand away, stopping at his locker to put his books away. “Screw you, Matt.”

Matt hisses, pulling his hand away and holding it carefully in his other hand. Instinctively, Ryan reaches for him, apologizing quickly as he squeezes his friend’s hand.

After a second, Matt breaks into a grin. “Gotcha.”

Ryan frowns, shutting his locker and following Matt to his own. “Not cool, dude. I thought I hurt you or something.”

“You could never hurt me, and if you did, I’d kick your ass.” Matt winks at him, finding his locker fidgeting with the lock.

“Dude, you swore!”

“I know!” Matt grins excitedly. “It's awesome, right? Don't tell my mom though.”

“I won't,” Ryan promises, and they make their way towards the cafeteria.

“My mom said that everyone's going to want to sign your cast.” Ryan says, poking at Matt’s red cast. “Good thing I already signed it.”

“Yeah, but you'll sign it again, right?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah.”

Ryan laughs, “Okay, weirdo. I’ll sign it again.”

 

At lunch, everyone does want to sign Matt’s cast. But the notes he gets aren't what either boy expected. They sit together, wide eyed at the inscriptions on their way to Matt’s house.

“Dude!” Ryan points to one of the names scrawled on the side of his cast. “Ashley Waters signed her name with a heart!”

“That's nothing,” Matt rotates his arm to show Ryan the underside of his cast. “Emily signed her name with  _ two hearts _ !”

“Woah,” Ryan grabs his cast to look at the signature. Suddenly, his eyes find a more interesting discovery. “I think you have a phone number on this thing.”

“What? Where?” Matt lifts his arm over his head, trying to read the numbers. “Holy crap, I think you're right!”

“Isn't Abbey Laftner an eighth grader?” Ryan reads the name attached. 

“Yeah. I got an eighth grader’s number today,” he blinks, “maybe I should break things more often.”

 

They play videogames for a little bit, but Matt gets tired of winning too much and he turns to Ryan. “Are you okay? Usually you're better at Mario Kart than this.”

“I just,” he sighs, “are you going to start playing video games with Abbey Laftner?”

Matt laughs, “No, of course not.”

“Okay,” Ryan nods. “Good.”

“Good,” Matt frowns, “Wait, do you think I'd leave you for Abbey Laftner?”

“I don't know! Maybe?”

Matt sets his controller down and swipes Ryan’s from his hands, holding his hand tight in his own. “You're my best friend, dude. No girls will get in between us. Not even Abbey Laftner. Okay?”

Ryan smiles softly. “Yeah, okay. Can we stop holding hands now? Your hand is clammy.”

“It's hard playing Mario Kart with one good hand!” Matt elbows him with his cast. “I’m still beating you, though.”

“I’m letting you win.”

“Yeah, sure.”

They're quiet for a moment, glaring at each other, before dissolving into laughter. They don't talk about casts or girls or Abbey Laftner anymore after that.

* * *

 

Ryan doesn't get why all of the girls in his drawing and painting keep giggling whenever he passes them. He's not an esteemed painter or anything. He's only taking the class so he and Matt can have another class together. That, and they like to hide dicks in their paintings. 

“Hey, can I borrow your tiny paintbrush?” Sarah asks, putting her hand on his arm.

“Ms. Giles has extra in the front,” Ryan says, shaking her hand off of him. “You keep asking to borrow mine.”

“Oh,” Sarah frowns. Ryan sighs, grabbing the brush from his water bowl and handing it to her.

“Here, I haven't been able to wash it yet, though. There might still be some green in the brush.”

“Thank you, Ryan. You're so nice!” She grins, hugging him. Ryan makes a face. “A lot of guys aren't nice to me.”

“Okay.” Ryan says, not looking up from his painting.

“I think it's because a lot of guys don't like me.”

“Oh.” Ryan says, not looking up from his painting.

“But you like me, right, Ryan?”

“Yeah.” Ryan says, not looking up from his painting.

Sarah smiles, but Ryan doesn't notice. “Oh! W-well, I like you too.”

“Cool.” Ryan says, still not looking up from his painting.

“So maybe, if you're not doing anything on Saturday...”

“Sorry, Matt’s coming over,” Ryan says, finally looking up from his painting.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Sarah opens her mouth to speak, but mumbles out a quiet  _ thank you _ and gets back to painting. Ryan turns to Matt.

“That was weird.”

“Dude—”

“She's not even using the paintbrush she asked for.”

“Dude!” Matt pokes him. “She likes you!”

“What? No,” Ryan shakes his head. Matt nods his head. “Why would she like me? I don't like her or anything.”

“I don't know,” Matt pulls him closer, talking quieter now, “but Taylor said that Sarah told her that she really likes you, and wants you to take her roller skating.”

“When were you talking to Taylor?”

“Don't you want a girlfriend, Ryan?”

He pauses. “No, not really.” Ryan shrugs.

“Well, I want a girlfriend, I think.” Matt sighs. “We’re probably the only seventh graders who don't have girlfriends.”

“That's unlikely.”

“Do you really not want a girlfriend?”

“Well, not right now,” Ryan says quickly. “I'm just good with the way things are right now.”

Matt pauses, before breaking into a grin. “Yeah, I guess I am too, dude.”

“Here's your dumb paintbrush.” Sarah says, shoving the paintbrush into his hands.

Ryan frowns, turning back to Matt. “See? She didn't even use it.”

The bell rings and they put their paintings away to dry. The next day, Sarah and her friends don't sit by Ryan and Matt, but they don't notice.

 

At lunch a week later, Taylor storms up to Matt and Ryan’s lunch table. “Are you guys gay or something?”

“What?” asks Matt.

“Are you guys gay? Sarah said you guys were being gay in art today.”

“No, we were just talking about video games.” Ryan frowns. “Is this because I didn’t ask her if she wanted to go roller skating with me?”

Taylor groans. Matt turns to him, “It’s probably because you didn’t ask her if she wanted to go roller skating.”

Ryan nods. Taylor runs her hands through her hair. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“Thanks,” Matt grins.

“I’m going to go sit with Sarah and the others now. See ya, Matt.”

As she walks away, Ryan laughs. “Why is she doing that thing with her hips? She’s like, sticking them out when she walks.”

“I dunno. Maybe she’s trying to impress someone.” Matt says, peering behind his shoulder to see. “My mom said that girls will do that to look prettier.”

“How does that make her look prettier? It makes her look like she’s hurt or something.”

“I dunno, but you’re right.” Matt laughs.

“Do you think Taylor likes you?”

Matt makes a face. “Naw, we’re just friends. Besides, I’m good with the way things are right now.” He winks, and Ryan grins.

 

It’s not until he gets home that he realizes that Taylor asked if he and Matt were gay. He knows what the word means, and he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with liking men, but it makes him scrunch up his face. They’re just guys being friends. Is there anything gay about them playing video games together? Ryan doesn’t think so. He’s never thought about dating or kissing Matt, and while they’ve held hands before, it’s more of a comfort thing than a romantic thing. Ryan wants to text Matt and ask him how he feels about the whole Sarah-thinks-we’re-gay thing, but he realizes that if he texts Matt, then Matt will know he’s thinking about it still and it’s nothing, he shouldn’t be this wound up about it. That’s what Matt would tell him, anyway. He decides against texting Matt and just reads before going to bed.

* * *

 

The end of the year trip to Washington, D.C. could not have come any quicker for Ryan. They're practically adults now, and he and Matt raised all of the money for the trip themselves (with their parents’ help, of course), and they don't even sleep on the plane ride there, despite their teachers recommending they do.

“We’re going to stay up all night!”

“Every night!” Matt whisper-shouts.

Their roommate, Tucker, shifts in his narrow seat. “Can you guys shut up? I'm trying to sleep.”

 

They don't actually stay up every night. Or the first night, for that matter. Matt yawns as he knocks on the door of the bathroom. He sighs in defeat and slumps onto the bed next to Ryan. “Tucker’s still in there, but I have to change.”

“Just change here, dude. I've seen you naked before,”

Matt scoffs, “Yeah, when we were kids. It's weird now.”

“Okay, then wait for the bathroom.” Ryan shrugs.

“No, it's alright, I’ll change here.” Matt says, sliding off the bed and grabbing some clothes from his bag.

Ryan laughs. “See? I told you, it wasn't going to be—” Ryan does realize he’s stopped talking when Matt takes off his shirt. Matt looks at him in confusion, and he blinks, coughing before continuing, “—weird.”

Matt laughs and shakes it off. But for some reason, it was weird. Ryan’s seen him naked before, but for some reason this is different. Ryan feels like he shouldn't be watching this, like he’s doing something dirty, so he looks at his phone, watching the home screen and silently praying that something on the device could distract him from his friend right now. 

Tucker gets out of the shower and they turn off the lights. Matt says he’ll fight Ryan for the first shower in the morning, but Ryan lets him win without debate, his mind preoccupied. Then, when he knows the others are sleep he sneaks into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face because why is he half hard right now? He blames the hot stewardess that Matt pointed out to him on the plane and settles back into bed, not waking Matt as he eventually finds sleep as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it, please feel free to comment and kudos, those make me really happy, and for updates/more information check out my blog @ chratt.tumblr.com (also feel free to ask me about the story or other works of mine ;) xx)


	3. Chapter 3

Grace, judging by Matt’s description of her, is some sort of goddess. He talks with his hands at lunch, looking around to make sure she’s not there before continuing his stories.

“She does this thing where she plays with her hair when she’s thinking. It’s so cute, I think I’m in love.”

“I doubt that,” Ryan scoffs.

“I think I’m going to ask her to homecoming. Should I make her a sign or something? She dances, I could do a dance-related sign? Or bake cookies and forget the sign?” Matt rambles.

“Why don’t you just bring her flowers? Girls love that shit.”

“Ryan, I love you. That’s a great idea.”

“That’s the second time you’ve declared your love in the last three minutes, dude.”

Matt doesn’t seem to care. “She’s good friends with Izzy and Megan, who are dating two guys on the football team. But her friend Becca still needs a date,” Matt says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I don’t know her,” Ryan tells him, already seeing where this conversation is heading.

“You can get to know her at the dance! She really wants to go with someone, and she thinks you’re cute.”

Ryan looks at him.

“Please? Then we can hang out at the dance. I won’t leave you with Becca or anything.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise, Ryan.”

“What are we, four?” He laughs, but takes the pinky promise anyway. As they shake, Matt frowns.

“Wait, what if she says no to me?”

“She won't, dude.”

“How do you know? She probably already has a date.” Matt groans, hitting his head on the table.

“If she has half a brain in her head, she’ll say yes to you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you're—” the word  _ attractive _ dies on his tongue, and he coughs, before rephrasing. “a good dude.”

“Thanks, Ryan.”

 

Like he and the rest of the school predicted, Grace says yes when Matt shows up to lunch with flowers, asking her to homecoming. By the end of the day, the picture of them spread around the school like a rash, and on the following Monday, when the candidates for Homecoming Court were announced, no one was surprised that they were on the ballot, except for Matt.

“Hey, I don't want to sound like an ass, but you're voting for Grace and I for court, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright thanks. I don't really care, but Grace really wants to win.” Matt smiles softly at the mention of her name, and Ryan rolls his eyes, despite smiling himself.

“You're gross. I don't like seeing you all sappy like this.”

“Suck my dick, Ryan.” Matt smirks, before sitting up straighter, waving to someone behind Ryan. “Oh shit, I forgot Grace and Becca were going to sit by us. Act normal, but don't forget to ask Becca to the dance.”

“What, no!” Ryan says.

“You— you pinky promised!” Matt whisper-shouts.

“I don't have a poster or anything!”

“Who cares! She just wants a date!” Ryan opens his mouth to reply, but the girls reach the table and he shuts his mouth. “Hey, Grace.”

“Hey,” she smiles, sitting down next to him. Becca sits next to Ryan and stares at him, waiting for something.

“Hey, Becca.”

“Hey, Ryan!” She grins, turning to face him. Their knees touch, but when Ryan turns away she only inches close. “Do you have a date to the dance yet?”

“Naw, but I—”

“Really, I would've thought a guy like you would have, like, four dates!” She laughs, and scrunches up as she does so. It's something that Matt does too, but it fits him better. Now Becca’s eyes squint and it's obvious that she’s forcing the laugh and Ryan wants to tell her that she's making him uncomfortable.

“Well, do you want to go with me, or something?”

“Wh— really? OMG!” Becca wraps her arms around his, “Yes yes yes!”

Ryan looks to Matt for help, but he seems busy as he tries to swipe a fry from Grace’s tray. She laughs, swatting his hand away; Becca unties herself from Ryan’s arm and stands up.

“I have to tell Lauren this, she won't believe it!”

When Becca leaves, Ryan sighs out the breath he was holding.

“I don't know if I’ve been introduced,” Grace holds out her hand. “I’m Grace.”

“Ryan,” he takes her hand. It's smooth in his own. “I've heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah, same here! All Matt ever wants to do is talk about you,” she laughs, elbowing him.

“That is not true.” Matt says quickly, finally managing to steal a fry from her tray.

“Okay, sure it's not,” she grins, “you weirdo.”

Ryan wants to point out that  _ weirdo _ is their thing. Only Matt and Ryan can call each other  _ weirdo _ . But Matt looks at her with these heart eyes and Ryan holds his tongue. 

 

Ryan decides that Grace is good for Matt. She's pretty, has nice hands and a good laugh, she's smart but not a brainiac, and she makes Matt happy. She's on the dance team too, but insists that it's no big deal, when in fact, it is a pretty big deal. She's down to Earth and Ryan admit that it is kind of cute how she plays with her hair whenever she is lost in thought. Grace begins sitting next to him in his study hall, and they talk about embarrassing stories of Matt the entire hour on some days. On a Thursday, Grace says,  _ wow, you really care about him, _ and Ryan says,  _ you have no idea— _ without thinking, only to add afterwards — _ he’s my best friend.  _ But she just smiles and begins telling him about the time soda shot out of his nose at the movies.

That's why Ryan can’t help but feel bad as he votes for Matt and some other girl for Homecoming Court. He doesn't know why he does it, but Grace can't win. He doesn't even know the other girl, but he sends in the vote and doesn't think twice about it.

 

The dance is loud, the music is bad and his date won't let go of his arm the entire time. Whenever a slow song comes on, she squeezes arm and sighs loudly, fluttering her clumsy artificial lashes.

“Do you have something in your eye?”

“No, I just— I want to dance with my  _ boyfriend _ .”

Ryan blinks. “Am I your boyfriend?”

Becca is quiet and looks hurt. Ryan, not wanting to draw attention to them, laughs awkwardly. “Just kidding! I knew that we were dating, because we are dating! Dating is what we are doing. You and me. Dating. Let's dance.”

Ryan thought a slow song would be a good opportunity to get some quiet, but Becca rambles into his ear, obviously pressing against him in a way that makes him want to go wash off in the bathroom. She's talking about people that Ryan doesn't even know, and he tries really hard to remember the names of the friends in the stories, but they all muddle together in his mind.

Becca pauses, expecting a response. Ryan laughs, looking around for Matt. He finds him, dancing in small circles with Grace in his arms; Ryan can see his mouth moving with the lyrics of the song, and a pang of jealousy surges through him. He tells himself it's because Matt and Grace got Homecoming Court and he didn't. Maybe Ryan’s jealous of Matt. He gets the beautiful girlfriend who’s nice and smart and all Ryan has is his loud girlfriend who laughs at everything he says and sticks her chest out too much. Matt and Grace turn, and Matt winks at him. Ryan’s head hurts. He tells himself that the dance would be over in forty minutes and his problems will be over.

 

After the dance, his problems just begin.

Becca insists that they spend as much time together as possible, and since he’s the only freshman who can drive, he drives Matt, Grace and Becca to the small café down the street of the school. But when he drops Grace off at her house, Matt unclicks his seatbelt.

“Hey, I thought we were going to hang out at my house?”

“Grace wanted some help with her geometry homework. Maybe tomorrow?” Matt says as he opens the door. “Thanks, dude. See you tomorrow.”

Matt shuts the door and jogs to catch up to Grace, hand snaking around her waist before Ryan can even respond. He mumbles out a swear and drives off.

"You know, I need help with my geometry homework,” Becca hums.

“Do you want Matt to help you at Grace's house? I can turn around.” Ryan says quickly.

“No, this is their one month anniversary, so she’s giving him a hickey.” Becca shrugs, and Ryan grips the wheel a little tighter. “Do you know what that means?” Becca continues.

“What does that mean.” Ryan sighs.

“It means it's our two week anniversary, silly!”

“Oh. Right. Happy anniversary,” he smiles sheepishly. Becca laughs.

“Oh, babe, you're so cute.” Becca coos, reaching over to pinch his cheek.

He dodges the touch, “Dude, I’m driving—”

“So maybe we could, I don't know, hang out today?”

Ryan sighs again. “Well, sure. Matt and I were going to play videogames, but I guess you can come over since he’s busy. You ever play Mario Kart?”

 

Regardless of whether she’s played Mario Kart before, Becca fucking sucks at it. She falls off the road during Yoshi Falls (who even does that?) and whines whenever Ryan hits her with a turtle shell.

“I feel like you're targeting me.”

“Yeah, that's the point of the game.” Ryan shrugs, but he does fall back and let Becca pass him so that he can get another red shell.

The race ends, and Becca tosses her controller to the side. “I don't want to do this anymore.”

“Want me to take you home?”

“No, I was thinking we could do something else.” She inches closer.

“Like what?”

“I don't know,” she shrugs, scooting closer. Ryan can smell her sugary perfume and it makes his eyes sting. “Maybe kiss? I mean, we’ve been together for two weeks and you haven't even tried to kiss me.”

Oh yeah, that's what boys and girls do. His mind darts to Matt and Grace, wondering whether she’s giving him a hickey or they're just kissing right now. He looks at Becca’s lips, and she bites them over enthusiastically. They suddenly remind him of slugs, and he thinks back to the excessive amounts of lip gloss she has applied throughout the day. Still, this is what people do, so he shrugs, says, “Okay,” and leans in.

The kiss is three seconds long, and when he pulls away, he shakes his head. “I don't think I like this.”

“What? I know I'm not very good, but we can practice,” she stammers, and he shakes his head again.

“No, I’m sorry, I just don't really like dating you.” As soon as he says the words, he looks at her face and watches her heart break in two. “You're a good girlfriend.” He says quickly, but her eyes are brimming with tears. “I just have a lot of homework, and stuff.”

“This is because of Matt, isn't it?”

“What does this have to do with Matt?”

“I thought you were gay, but Grace promised me you weren't, that Matt told you that you weren't gay, you’re just—” she gestures with her hands, “weird, when it comes to girls. And I-I thought that would be okay, but all you ever talk about is Matt and when you talk about him you get this—”

“I talk about him because he's my friend!”

“Why don't you talk about me like that?” She asks.

“I talk about him like that, because I know him.”

“Don't you know me?”

He pauses. “I think I should take you home now, Becca.”

 

The ride home is quiet, and Becca keeps rubbing at her eyes. Whenever Ryan checks traffic to his right, Becca sits up, as if she expects him to say  _ just kidding! I love you! Will you marry me? _ But he never does.

When they get to her house, she doesn't say goodbye, just gets out of the car and starts to walk. From his rearview mirror, he sees her turn to watch him leave, but he keeps driving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst oh no  
> Hope you like it, please feel free to comment and kudos, those make me really happy, and for updates/more information check out my blog @ chratt.tumblr.com (also feel free to ask me about the story or other works of mine ;) xx)


	4. Chapter 4

Becca calls Grace crying, telling her that Ryan kissed her and then broke up with her. On their two week anniversary. Can you believe that, Grace? So that’s why Becca and Grace both stop sitting with Ryan and Matt at lunch. And honestly, Ryan is glad. He’s happy he can eat lunch with Matt again, alone, and neither of them have to pretend to be anything. Matt can stop flirting with his girlfriend and instead focus on the crazy story Ryan’s telling him about what happened in Human Geography yesterday.

But then Matt stops sitting with him.

“Ryan, I’m really sorry,” Matt frowns, making his way through the lunch line. “It’s just, Becca and Grace have been friends since the fifth grade. She can’t just leave her right now. And Becca kind of hates you. So, I’ll see if Grace and I can sit with you on, like, Wednesdays and Fridays.”

“Or you can just sit by me,” Ryan points out. “Grace can sit with Becca.”

Matt laughs, but it has a mirthless bite in it that makes Ryan frown. “Yeah right. She’s my girlfriend, Ryan. I _want_ to sit by her.” He pauses. “Why do you hate her, anyway? She likes you. She thinks you’re funny.”

“All we do is talk about you.” he mumbles, before speaking up. “You said Becca and Grace have been friends since the fifth grade? We’ve been friends since the third grade. So I think they’ll understand if you sit by me—”

“There’s Grace and Becca. I gotta go, but I’ll talk to you after school?”

“Yeah, okay. Talk to you after school.”

 

They don’t talk after school.

 

They do, however, talk three days later, and when Ryan asks him why Matt didn’t text him, Matt shrugs sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry dude. Grace wanted to go to a movie.”

Ryan opens his mouth to speak, but realizes he doesn’t have anything to say to Matt. “Oh,” is all he settles for. Matt inhales through his nose and his eyes glance around the cafeteria, before they lock on Grace and he doesn’t say goodbye when he leaves.

Their old lunch table is abandoned, and Ryan sneaks out to his Biology teacher’s room to each lunch there. When he gets there, he sees a familiar face greets him.

“Hey, Ryan.” says Tucker, looking up from his camera. Tucker’s leaned against the lab table, taking pictures of suspending liquids; Mr. Wecht is at his desk, going through papers.

“Hey. Mr. Wecht, do you mind if I eat lunch in here?”

He doesn’t make an effort to acknowledge Ryan, but Tucker clears his throat. “He’s been grumbling about his advanced chemistry students for the past twenty minutes. I eat in here, it’s fine.”

“Do these damn kids even read the pages I assign them, or do they just _like_ failing my class?” Mr. Wecht asks himself, writing something with a heavy hand and circling a letter than Ryan can only assume is a big red F.

“Why do you eat in here?” Ryan asks. “Doesn’t Mr. Wecht scare you at all?”

Tucker shrugs. “Lunch is loud. But there’s good lighting in here. And Mr. Wecht is pretty harmless. At least I think he is.”

“Oh.” Ryan pulls up a chair. “Well, can I eat here with you?”

Tucker opens his mouth, and Ryan knows he wants to ask _I thought you sit with Matt?_ But he nods, “Yeah, I’m just taking some pictures right now because I forgot to do my homework for photography.”

“There’s homework in photography?”

“Yeah. Not to mention, I’m going to try and get Photo Club President next year, so I have to be on the teacher’s good side.”

“That’s fair.”

“Yeah. Anyway, if Mr. Wecht is in a good mood, he’ll pull up Burgertime and play that on the projector. He’s some sort of pro at that game. And get this—” he lowers his voice. “Mr. Wecht is kind of hilarious.”

 

Surprisingly, Burgertime is interesting enough to keep Ryan and Tucker entertained throughout the entire fall. Mr. Wecht must have been a pro gamer in a different life, and even lets Ryan try the game a few times while he’s writing assignments down on the whiteboard by the end of semester, Ryan’s managed to get a fifth of Mr. Wecht’s score.

During his study hall eighth hour one day, Ryan checks his phone to see several texts from Matt.

_Hey dude, Grace and Becca are on a field trip. Can I sit by you at lunch?_

_What table to do you usually sit at? You’re not at the usual one._

_Nvm I’m sitting by Jon now._

Part of Ryan is proud of himself. Ryan has other friends besides Matt, he shouldn’t have to bend over backwards for this guy who hasn’t made an effort to talk to him for three months now. But the other part of him kicks himself for abandoning Matt like that. Matt doesn’t mean to be an asshole, so why is Ryan being such a dick to him? And a third part of him just feels empty now.

 

* * *

 

Ryan doesn’t like the football games. The sport is fine, but their school always exaggerates how good their team is and then when Tucker tells him that they should go, it’s going to be a really good game, he believes him but now Ryan’s cold and he didn’t go to any games in his freshman year, he doesn’t know why the games would have improved at all by his sophomore year. But Tucker insists he goes because as President of the Photo Club he has to go; Tucker failed to mention that when he invited him to go to the game that he’d have to be taking photos the entire time, leaving Ryan standing alone on the stands.

“Hey, Ryan!”

Ryan looks at Matt, who’s already scooted over to make room for him on the bench. Fuck.

“Hey, dude.”

“Long time no see.” Matt laughs awkwardly, “I usually don’t see you at games.”

“Yeah, I don’t usually go.” He shrugs, looking at the players. He can see Tucker, crouching like a tourist as he tries to get a good action shot of the game. Ryan secretly wishes he’d get hit by a flying football. Serves him right for abandoning him at the game.

“Oh.” Matt clears his throat. “Well, I’m here to see Grace.”

“You guys are still together?” He doesn’t mean it to be as harsh as it sounds, and tries to ignore the look Matt gives him.

“Yeah. Yeah we are, actually.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Hey, what classes do you have next semester?”

“I have gym next semester, fourth hour I think? And a study hall seventh.”

“I think I’ll have gym with you!”

Ryan nods. “Sick, man.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait.” Matt pauses. “Hey, I just want to say I’m sorry? I feel like things have been sort of weird with us.”

“It’s not weird,” Ryan says quickly. Glancing over at the scoreboard. He doesn’t even read it, but it’s in the opposite direction of Matt and he can’t look at Matt when he’s apologizing to him. “We just drifted apart.”

“Yeah, but, I just feel like I did something wrong. So if you think that I did something that—”

“You didn’t.” Ryan says. “If anything, we were both weird.” Matt frowns, opening his mouth. Ryan doesn’t let him speak. “I think we just both had busy schedules. It’s fine.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” Ryan finally glances at him for a second. Matt looks doubtful, but Ryan doesn’t spend much time looking at how his blue eyes try and search his own, instead turning his attention to Tucker by the benched players. “I’m only here because Tucker needed a ride.”

“Oh.” Matt nods. “Oh! Are you guys—” he coughs, and Ryan looks at him.

“Are we what?”

“You know.”

“No, I really don’t.”

Matt laughs, nudging him. “Don’t make me say it.”

“What.” Ryan blinks. “Gay? Nah, we’re just friends.”

“Oh.” Matt’s face heats up. “I only asked because—” he laughs. “Sorry— Grace said you guys always hang out, and I guess she—”

“You and I used to hang out all the time.” He points out. “We just play video games.”

“Sorry, Ryan. I told Grace I doubt that you were, y’know, but—” he laughs. “Sorry, dude.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Speaking of video games, though, I miss hanging out with you, man. Maybe one of these days, you, me and Tucker can all hang out and play something?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

Matt grins, the same crooked smile that Ryan’s known since the third grade. “Sounds good, dude.” The dancers run on the field. Is it halftime already? Ryan hasn’t noticed. “Hey, are you going to homecoming this year?”

“Maybe, why?”

“Well, if you should come with our group. It’s like the same as last year, except Becca has a date and she’s over you, finally.” Matt laughs. “It took Grace and me a month to get her to stop moping about you guys.”

“I feel bad still,” Ryan admits. “I did dump her on our two week anniversary.”

“It’s no big deal. She’s with Marcus now— Marcus from third grade. Can you believe that?” He laughs again. He’s been doing a lot of that, and Ryan finds himself smiling along as well. “It’s crazy.”

“Yeah, it is.”

 

Tucker meets him by the concessions stand five minutes before the end of the game. Ryan buys a soda and they begin their walk to Ryan’s car. It’s dark, and they stay close to the curb to keep out of the way of the cars that already have begun to leave the parking lot.

“Good call, parking in the neighborhood instead of the parking lot.” Tucker tells him, fiddling with his camera.

Ryan nods. “Yeah, I park over here during the day too. This parking lot is a shitshow to maneuver in.”

Tucker doesn’t respond, but leans closer to Ryan to show him the display of the camera. “Dude, look at this picture I got of you.”

“Why were you taking pictures of me? I thought you were supposed to be taking pictures of the game.” His words dissolve into quiet murmurs as he stares at the image on the screen.

It’s him, laughing and talking to Matt. It’s strange to him, because Ryan feels like he’s looking at a photo from their past— their grins on their faces, talking and enjoying each other’s company like he wishes they could now. But they also both seem so _old_. Matt’s grown up, and now so has Ryan. It’s not until Tucker turns the camera off that Ryan realizes he’s been holding his breath.

“So, Adam’s going to take photos at the next game, but you and I can still go if you want? I promise I won’t leave you alone in the stands.”

“Nah, I hate football.” Ryan says, and silently vows to never go to another game.

 

He let’s the night’s events sink in after he gets home from dropping Tucker off at his house. Why did Matt have to act like things were okay between them? Why did Ryan insist that it wasn’t Matt’s fault? Why didn’t he speak his mind, the way he’s always rehearsed in the shower, in his bed in the morning, at lunch with Tucker. Matt abandoned him for some dumb girl and Ryan should hate him, but why doesn’t he? Ryan’s done such a good job of avoiding Matt, but who the hell gives Matt the right to just show up in Ryan’s life whenever he pleases? Matt can go fuck himself for all Ryan cares. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Ryan texts Tucker.

_Hey. Homecoming is in three weeks and I’d rather blow my brains out than go. Want to get pizza and just sleepover at my house instead of going?_

Tucker texts back _yeah sure thing_ , and Ryan against every memory of him and Matt together flooding his head, he makes a promise to stop caring about Matt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lowkey the next chapter is the first I wrote of the whole fic, I'm really proud of it and I hope you guys like it! Talk to me @ chratt.tumblr.com for more content about tcotn, or other fics currently in the works. Thank you so much for those who have left comments and kudos and bookmarks, I love and appreciate every single one of you!! xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of my favorite chapters I've written, I really hope you like it! leave a comment or talk to me on my blog @ chratt if you want to hear more about the fic/talk about it at all!

Ryan’s not sure why Matt still has his number. Ryan’s not sure why he still has Matt’s number, honestly. In the summer before junior year, Ryan cleaned his phone of old contacts and photos he didn't need. He doesn't know why he kept Matt’s number. Maybe he wished he’d get a call from Matt, that things could go back to normal between them. But he didn't expect a call the night of the football state championship at 2:15am. The familiar tune is loud enough that it pulls him from his sleep, and he frowns at his illuminated screen, reading the caller ID several times over in disbelief before finally picking up the phone.

“Whaddaya want?” He asks with his scratchy sleep-voice. Ryan rolls onto his side and lets his head fall to his pillow as his eyes flutter shut.

“R-Ryan,” Matt hiccups. Ryan’s eyes blink open.

“Matt?” He asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He glances at the time. “It's fucking two in the morning. What's going on?”

Ryan can hear his breaths, short and frantic, and he can imagine Matt trying to keep from crying as he whispers. From behind Matt, Ryan can hear the distant sound of music, blaring loud and low from another room.

“I'm drunk,” he says quickly, “and alone, and Grace left with her friends and I don’t know where I am and I need you to pick me up because I’m drunk,” he rambles, releasing the rest of a shaky breath before continuing. “I can’t— I can’t go home because I’m drunk but you’re responsible and you can drive and I n-need you to pick me up Ryan, please,” he sighs, “I’m so alone right now.”

Ryan’s already out of his room, pulling on his shoes as he grabs his mom’s keys. “I’m on my way. Stay with me, alright?” He tiptoes past his parents room, before remembering that he was alone in the house. “My parents are out of town. You can stay at my house tonight.”

“That’s good, that sounds good,” Matt repeats. “I don’t know where I am.”

Ryan’s in his car. He sticks the key into the ignition and he’s off, carefully balancing the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he pulls out of the driveway. “Matt, focus— do you remember any familiar stores you passed on the way there? Anything that could help me find you?”

Matt’s quiet, and part of Ryan worries that he’s fallen asleep, or has stopped breathing or something, anything, but then he hears Matt’s voice and releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Twin Peaks.”

“You mean the sports bar?” He can think of three in the area. “Do you remember seeing a neon Statue of Liberty, or a laundry mat?”

“Statue of Liberty,” he sniffles.

Ryan nods to himself, holding the phone against his ear while he steers with one hand, “Alright, I know where you are. I’ll be there in forty minutes. Stay put until I get there, okay?”

“Okay,” Matt whispers. 

 

Because he speeds there, he gets there in thirty minutes. Once he gets to the sports bar, he drives through several small neighborhoods a bit further down, finally stopping at a house with cars lining the street and music blaring through the thin walls. Matt’s out there, sitting on the driveway, grabbing his thin arms and curling his lips into a tight frown. Immediately he stands up and gets into the passenger seat; they’re still on the phone together, but Ryan hangs his up before starting to drive again. Matt shoves his phone into his pocket and leans his head against the seat, staring at Ryan.

“You okay, buddy?”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Ryan sighs. “No problem.”

“No, I mean—” Matt sits up, putting his hand on the dashboard to steady himself as he looks at Ryan, closer. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Ryan glances his at him quickly before resuming his focus on the empty road. “Now buckle your seatbelt.”

 

Ryan thought the ride home would be quiet, except for the soft Dum Dum Girls song playing on his radio and maybe Matt snoring in his seat and Ryan doing everything he could to avoid waking him, but instead it's loud, and that makes it difficult for Ryan to ignore the tension in the car. “D’you remember this car?” Matt asks him.

“I— yes, I remember this car. Do you remember this car?”

He nods. “Yeah. We took this car to the— the Ferris wheel, right? Growin’ up?”

“Yeah, we did. I remember that,” Ryan smiles, but his stomach churns at the memory.

“And I was so scared, but you weren’t. And we were best friends.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, and we’d hang out everyday and talk to each other,” Ryan can hear the frown in Matt’s voice, “but that was before you started hating me.”

“I don't hate you, Matt.”

“Yes you do!” Matt exclaims, “You avoid me in the hallways, and you don't talk to me anymore.”

“Matt—”

“I want to be friends with you again.” Matt tells him, and for the first time all night, his voice doesn't shake. “I want to be  _ best _ friends with you again. Why can't you just be nice to me?”

“I'm taking you to my house right now. I picked you up. Is that not nice?” He asks, but his words have no bite. Instead, they’re empty and detached from him. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

“I think,” Matt continues. “That you should be nice to me again. Then, I can be nice to you. How does that sound?”

Ryan sighs. “I want to be nice to you, Matt. And I want to be friends again. But,” he hesitates, “you make it very difficult sometimes.”

“Oh.”

Ryan thinks he's said too much, but there's something therapeutic about saying things to Matt in this state. He won't remember this conversation, and as they continue to drive, Ryan’s not sure he’ll remember it in the morning, either. Maybe this is just a dream, and he’ll wake up and they'll continue to drift apart as if nothing changed. But finally, Matt speaks up once more. “Hey, Ryan?”

“What?”

“D’you remember the Ferris Wheel?”

“Of course I do. I just said—”

“Remember, when I felt like throwing up, and you held my hand and you made it better?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you hold my hand again, Ryan? ‘Cause, I think I’m going to throw up.”

Ryan curses, but grabs his hand and starts searching for a gas station. He finds one and slowly pulls into it, squeezing Matt’s hand. “Hold on a minute, Matt.”

Matt’s shaking as Ryan helps him out of the car, leading him behind the gas station so he can have privacy. In the grass behind the building, there's a tree and a small fence, which Matt stumbles to, bracing himself on the metal fence as he empties the contents of his stomach onto the poor sprout. Ryan's behind him, rubbing circles on his back as Matt hiccups in between his convulsions. Matt’s still babbling, in between heaves, and it takes Ryan a few moments to realize Matt’s apologizing, over and over again. Before Ryan can have a chance to apologize too, the heaving stops, and Matt pulls away from the wall to wipe the tears, snot and spit from his face. Ryan takes his shaking hand and directs him to the wall of the gas station.

Ryan shuffles out of his hoodie, wrapping it around Matt before squeezing his shoulders tightly. “I'm going to be right back, okay? You stay right here.”

Matt nods absently, gripping the warm hoodie around him, and Ryan turns to go into the gas station.

The water bottle, toothbrush and toothpaste he buys totals up to $4.50, but he hands the cashier a five and is out the door again. Matt smiles at him, eyes red and teary as he takes them.

Ryan isn't quite sure what to do. By now, Matt’s seemed to sobered up— at the very least, he’s stopped crying and vomiting— and Ryan just stands there with his hands in his pockets, watching Matt brush his teeth.

Matt brushes his teeth several times, Ryan remembers his fear of the sickness; finally he stands up, gripping the toothbrush and toothpaste with one hand and reaching for Ryan’s arm with the other. Silently, they make their way back to the car, and drive into the night again. The rest of the car ride is quiet, like Ryan wanted, but for some reason he liked it more when it was loud.

 

Ryan tosses the keys onto the counter and they both slide out of their shoes. Matt already knows his way around the house, and he makes his way towards the couch as Ryan follows.

“You're sleeping in my room, c’mon.”

Ryan ushers Matt up the stairs, hand staying on his lower back to keep him steady. While Matt’s body follows obediently, Matt frowns. “It's your house. You sleep on your bed.”

“You're drunk. You sleep on the bed.”

Matt turns and shakes his head, but in doing so disorientates himself. He grabs Ryan’s shoulders and shuts his eyes as Ryan keeps his hand planted on Matt, the other going to the railing for extra support. Matt regains his composure, but stays close to Ryan, arms like liquid as they snake around Ryan. From this proximity, he can smell the faint alcohol on Matt, and when Matt pulls away from their hug, Ryan’s eyes first go to the matted hair on his forehead, to the familiar look in his eyes, down to his lips, which were bruised by somebody else's mouth.

“Ryan,” Matt says.

“You're sleeping in my bed tonight.” Ryan says, praying that Matt’s too drunk to notice how his cheeks flush. 

That's all they say about that.

 

When they get to Ryan’s room, he offers Matt a change of clothes but Matt simply flops onto the bed, rolling to his back and patting the free space. “Dude, really?”

Matt nods, eyes shut but grinning, lazily, “Yeah. At least stay with me until I fall asleep?”

The weight of the evening and Matt’s words are enough to convince him to gnome every red flag going off in his brain, and he sits at the side of the bed. Matt frowns, and Ryan swings his legs onto the bed, moving to his side so he can study Matt. “Better?” Matt cracks his eyes open, bright blue slivers illuminated in the otherwise dark room.

“Yeah.”

Matt's quiet, and Ryan thinks he’s fallen asleep, but his tongue darts out to moisten his lips. “Ryan, I—” he coughs, “I think I'm going to break up with Grace.”

Ryan props himself up on his elbow. “I mean if she left you at the party, yeah that's fair.”

“Yeah, but we’ve been kind of on the rocks lately.” Matt scrubs a hand down his face. “I guess this is just the last straw, you know?”

“Yeah,” But he doesn't know. His last girlfriend was Becca, and they were together for three weeks, and it was two years ago. Wow, Ryan thinks, has it really been two years?

“Okay,” Matt says to himself.

They stay there in the tranquility of darkness as Matt’s eyes flutter shut, sighing as he rolls to his side. Ryan carefully slips off the bed, but a cold wrist wrapped around his startles him. “Hey,”

“Hey.”

“Are you sure you can't— you don't,” Matt frowns. “Are you sure you can't stay here with me?”

Ryan doesn't know why his heart stutters in his chest. He checks the clock and yawns, sitting back down on the bed. Even with his window closed, his bedroom holds a sense of yearning in the air. Maybe it's because Ryan can't remember if he locked the car doors. Maybe it's because Matt’s staring at him with half lidded eyes, asking him to join him in bed. A voice yells at him in the back of his mind: HE’S DRUNK! As another voice yells HE’S STRAIGHT, to which Ryan wants to shout back I’M STRAIGHT TOO, RIGHT? But he instead settles for, “Okay, sure.”

Matt smiles, his signature half-smirk that he’s coined since freshman year. Ryan can't imagine anyone else pulling it off, nor Matt smiling any other way. Matt's blinking slowly, lulled to sleep by the hum of the fan, but Ryan hesitates before lying down.

“Hey—”

“Hey,” Matt murmurs.

“—You should call you parents. Let them know you're safe.”

Matt makes a sleepy noise, swatting the idea out of the air like a fly.

“Matt,” he tries again. “Where's your phone?”

“Pocket,” Matt mumbles, but makes no effort to grab the phone.

“Your mom’s probably worried about you,”

“Eh.”

Ryan holds his breath as he pulls the covers off of Matt. Matt lazily raises his hips off the mattress, giving Ryan a better position to grab the phone from, making Ryan sputter. He holds his breath, even after he sees “5 missed calls from Ann Watson” on the screen, the most recent being several minutes ago. He begins calling; from beside him, Matt pulls the sheets back over himself and hums, pleased with the warm blankets covering him.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mrs. Watson!”

“Ryan Magee? Is Matt with you?”

“Yeah, actually, he’s asleep right now.”

“Where are you boys?”

“At my house. He fell asleep before he called you, so I figured I’d let you know.”

She laughs. “Thanks for looking out for Matt. I know he said he'd be at his friend’s house, but I didn't know he meant you, Ryan! I’m glad you guys are hanging out again!”

Ryan glances at Matt. He’s sleeping soundly, and doesn’t stir as Ryan’s fingers dance over his cheek. He’s beautiful, Ryan realizes, and the new discovery feels like a rock in his stomach. “Yeah, me too.”

“Matt always talks about you all the time. You should come over soon! Or tell Cecile to give me a call!”

Ryan feels like his stomach is dangling from the fan, whirring around the room as Ann’s words sink in. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Alright, I’ll let you boys get some rest. Have a good night, Ryan.”

“Yeah, you too.”

He settles down into the bed, carefully pulling at the blankets and draping them over himself and Matt again. Matt’s back is towards him now— he must have rolled over in his sleep— and Ryan feels the urge to grab him, shake him awake, hug him, maybe even apologize too. But as his eyelids feel heavier now, and his heart is doing flips inside his chest; he decides to save it for another lifetime.

 

Ryan must have forgotten to turn off his alarm, which bleeps them awake at 7:00. He's awake, he’s half hard, and he’s and about to smack the alarm off; another hand beats him to it, mumbling out a swear as the figure moves next to him. He cracks an eye open to see Matt’s sleeping face. It's not too close, but close to where he can see how delicately long his eyelashes are even when forced shut, and the way his nose scrunches, obviously annoyed with his unpleasant morning wake up. Suddenly, orbs of blue appear from behind the slits in his face, and Matt’s staring right back at him.

“Hey,” Ryan murmurs, voice hoarse with morning.

“Hmph.” Matt grimaces, pulling the blankets over his head. “Too bright.”

“Well, damn, Matt. I'd fight the sun for you if I could.” He scoffs sleepily, but clears his throat and sits up. “Do you need water or anything?”

“Water,” he mumbles, “and Advil?”

Ryan nods, “Water and Advil. Good?”

“Good.” Matt says, pulling the sheets off his body and looking at Ryan with a lazy smile on his face and squinted shut eyes. Ryan’s not sure when Matt took off his shirt, but something about seeing him sprawled out on the bed like that makes his dick twitch in his pants. Matt doesn't seem to notice.

“Good,” Ryan repeats, distracted, before heading out of the room.

And, for the first time in a long while, things were good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what if I told you that I might post a chapter (or two) tomorrow as well?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and sweet with an important authors note  
> (this is the only chapter in this format but the note sort of explains why it is)

_I can’t believe you bought him a toothbrush_

 

_What was I supposed to do? He has emetophobia_

 

_The fuck is that?_

 

_Fear of sickness_

_I’m such an asshole Tucker_

 

_You literally drove the kid home from a party, that doesn’t really seem like an asshole thing to do_

 

_Yeah but_

_I’ve been mad at him for so long, and he said he’s sorry but do I just act like I’m not still pissed?_

 

_He’s an ass, but he doesn’t mean to be_

 

_Exactly!!_

 

_But that doesn’t mean you guys can’t be friends_

_It just means you guys aren’t as close as you were before_

 

_This sucks_

 

_Yeah_

 

_Thanks Tucker. You’re a good friend, you know that?_

 

_Don’t worry about it dude_

_Just don’t let his apology determine whether you’re okay or not_

 

_I’ve gotten so good at ignoring him too. But now bam we’re friends again I guess because he apologized_

 

_If you’re still mad, be mad. Your anger is valid_

_Don’t put up a facade around him or anything_

 

_Part of me feels like it isn’t his fault though. Like plans change, it’s no big deal_

_But the other part of me is like, he ditched me for two fucking years_

_But now he’s making the effort to be my friend again_

 

_Whose fault is it if it’s not his? Because you didn’t do anything wrong, that’s for sure_

 

_I just_

_I can’t be mad at him!! I’d rather make myself sad than admit to him that I’m upset_

 

_Matt was an asshole, but if you’re mad at him then he deserves whatever anger you have_

_It’s like you need a break from him and you guys just took one_

 

_Yeah_

_It’s like he still wants me to care about him after all these years_

_Or that he likes the fact that I still care about him_

_He’s so fucking confusing_

 

_Or maybe you’re just confusing yourself?_

 

_What do you mean?_

 

_Well, he seems to just want to be your friend again, yeah?_

 

_Yeah_

 

 _Then, while you’re feelings are completely understandable, I think you’re just going to have to either forgive him or not be his friend_  

_Because otherwise you’ll be putting yourself through way more stress than necessary if you're his friend but you're still upset over this_

_Like you'll never get closure or anything_

 

_Yeah you’re right_

 

_So, what are you going to do?_

 

_I think I’m going to forgive him_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, this is Emily, aka the author of The Confusions of Two Nobodies. This is a mini chapter (don’t worry, chapter 7 will be released at the same time as this one so you get both right now!) that I wanted to use to address some things about this fic. First of all, this is a very personal fic for me, and I wanted to prove that (both to the readers and myself) so I included this “chapter”, which has real texts between my friend and I regarding a “Matt” in my life (which would make me the Ryan in this situation), changing only some names and splicing texts together. So the mindset that Ryan has, especially when he makes the promise to stop caring about his friend, and even the conversation about wanting to be nice to each other, it’s something I’ve dealt with and that has motivated me to write this story. I’m not saying it’s always the right thing to do, but most people live in the mindset where they do what they think is right or will make them feel better, and maybe it’s immature, but that’s something he (and I, hopefully) will learn someday.
> 
> That being said, it has come to my attention (through the comments on here and asks on my blog) that a lot of you have been in similar situations, and that makes me so sad to hear, but I’m glad we can all find some sort of community through this shared experience. I’m sixteen years old- I don’t want to act like a saint who knows all, but we can all agree on the fact that growing up fucking sucks. People change and people grow apart. And even new friends who you make can fall through when you need them most. I don’t have all the answers, but I do know this: friendships should not be hard. Try and surround yourself with people who respect and admire, but more importantly, people who make you feel comfortable. Don’t try and change yourself for anyone, even if that anyone is your best friend from childhood. 
> 
> I’m always here for you guys, thank you so much for all your love and support. And with that, I hope you enjoy chapter 7 xx


	7. Chapter 7

“Hey,” Matt smiles as he sets his tray down next to Ryan’s.

“Hey?” Ryan asks.

Matt hesitates before sitting down. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Ryan nods quickly. He sees Tucker roll his eyes from across the table, and he kicks him. “Yeah, it's fine.”

“Thanks,” Matt says quietly, sending a familiar smile to Ryan.

“Don’t worry about it, dude.”

Matt nods, quiet, before opening his mouth. “I broke up with Grace today.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah.”

“Why? You guys always seemed so…” Tucker makes a gesture with the fry in his hand, before eating it and continuing, “cute? I don't know,”

Matt sighs, looking down at the floor, but Ryan can see the smirk in his eyes as they glance up to meet his and Tucker’s. “You know— the sex just wasn't good anymore.”

Ryan isn't drinking anything, but he suddenly feels like he’s choking, face heating up and sputtering as Tucker laughs.

“Woah, really?”

“Nah, it was fine,” Matt shrugs, laughing as well, before sighing, “we’re just two different people. She isn't who I thought she was freshman year, and I guess I’ve changed since then too.”

Ryan sees his mouth moving, but doesn't comprehend his words. Instead, he's fixated on trying to get the image of Matt having sex with Grace out of his mind. Maybe Ryan’s a little jealous; this was the scrawny kid with spider limbs that used to cry when they read comic books together, and suddenly he’s grown up, and Ryan feels like he’s missed his stop somewhere. He feels too old to deal with the frills of romance, but from he can see Matt from outside the window, living his life and having sex with Grace! Grace has grown into a fine woman herself, and Ryan tells himself that he’s only jealous of Matt because he imagines what Grace would be like in bed that evening.

 

Ryan wakes up at four, half-hard and thinking about Matt’s words again. But instead of Grace’s pouty lips on him, he imagines lips that are more chapped, and a familiar smirk dissolving into an angelic face of ecstasy, moaning his name like a mantra and blue eyes boring into his. Maybe, Ryan realizes, he’s not jealous of Matt anymore. He’s jealous of Grace. He sends Tucker a text that reads _hey dude I think I'm gay anyways see you second hour_.

Three minutes later, he gets two texts.

_What the fuck_

_Not about you being gay. Good for you. But go the fuck to sleep it's 4am._

* * *

 

“You're shit at art, dude.”

“Mr. Shaw says I'm improving,” Ryan mumbles pointedly, erasing his line for the seventh time. He frowns suddenly, looking up at the voice. “What's your name, anyway?”

“Chris,” he says.

“Well, Chris, I don't see what my art skills have to do with you,” his words only make Chris’s smirk grow, and Ryan feels like he’s taken some bait.

“Well, Ryan,” Chris mocks, eyes bright as he leans over. “I can help you, if you want.”

Ryan scoffs and opens his mouth to speak, but as he looks at Chris’s drawing his words die on his lips. He blinks out of it and looks back at Chris, only now realizing how close they are. “This is the only class that fit with my schedule,” he explains. “I’m not really an art person. It was between this class and first lunch.”

Chris laughs, “I have first lunch on Tuesdays, that shit is the worst,”

Ryan finds himself smiling as well. “Yeah, I had it on Fridays last year. It sucks.”

Chris nods, moving closer to Ryan; he holds his breath before realizing that Chris is only trying to see the scattered objects from his perspective, not the angle he was originally sitting at. “Your boot isn't that bad,”

“Thanks,”

“But it's at the wrong angle. Makes the whole piece look like shit,” he snickers, doing what Ryan can only describe as the pretentious thumb-in-the-air thing that artists often do.

“Fuck you,”

“You wish,” Chris shoots back quickly, a toothy grin plastered on his face. It's now that Ryan realizes that Chris is, in fact, very attractive, and his only response to Chris’s vulgar words is his red cheeks. “Do you even use the shape method that Mr. Shaw told us to?”

“Yes! But it still turns out—” he points to the boot, “like this!”

Chris slides his paper over the table, flipping it over to the clean side. “Let's start with an easier shape: the toy car is—”

“Why’d you say it like that?” Ryan snorts. “ _Caer_.”

Chris’s brow furrows. “I'm Irish, you asshole.”

“Oh,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, that's—” Ryan nods. “That explains why I've never seen you around before.”

“I'm one of the exchange students.” Chris shrugs.

“What's up with your accent, though? I thought Irish accents were more— you know,”

“Top o’ the mornin’ to ya?” He deadpans.

“Yeah!”

Chris chuckles, “I don't know, I watched a lot of American television. Fucking sucks too, I heard you Americans love accents.”

“Do you ever play up the accent to get a girl’s number?”

Chris makes a face. “Hell no. I can get numbers with my charm and good looks. Besides,” he winks, “Women aren't usually my type.”

Oh. _Oh._ “Oh.” Ryan says, face hot again.

“Yeah,” Chris says, before turning his attention back to the paper. “So, the _caer_ is made up of two squares and two circles. You draw those and then you add the details. Don't try to do it all at once.”

Ryan nods, still quiet.

“So, with the boot, try drawing it as two cylinders?”

Ryan nods again.

“Are you alright?” Chris frowns, turning to face him again. “Is this because I'm gay or something?”

“No!” Ryan jolts. “I just, I'm—” Chris raises a brow. “That was sort of out of nowhere.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right.”

“Do you tell everyone you’ve just met that you're gay?”

Chris shrugs, looking down at his paper to draw as he speaks. “Not really, just the cute ones.”

Ryan is very glad Chris doesn't look up to see his red cheeks. “Oh, I— I’m,” he takes a deep breath. “Me too?”

“What, gay?” Chris doesn't looks up from his paper, and Ryan feels his chest tighten.

He nods.

Chris chuckles, eyes flicking up to meet his gaze. “You do a lot of that— nodding. Cat got your tongue or something?”

“Something like that,” Ryan grabs his paper and erases the rest of the boot, before following Chris’s advice and drawing two cylinders instead. “At least I think I am,”

“You've never..?”

“Nope.”

“I don't like this composition,” he comments offhandedly, gesturing to the objects spewed onto the table.

“I don't think you're supposed to like them.” Ryan shrugs, “They're just random things Mr. Shaw has in his office.”

“Yeah, but I don't like drawing still life.”

“Well, you're fucking good at it.” Ryan huffs. “So I wouldn't complain if I were you.”

“I want to be an animator.” Chris mimics Ryan’s sigh, “Cartoons and shit.”

“Draw me?” Ryan asks, batting his eyelashes and posing as he continues, laughing. “How many times do you get people asking you to draw them? It must get annoying.”

Chris sets his drawing of the poses objects onto the table and hands Ryan a sheet from underneath it, that Ryan had no idea was there, “Yeah, those people are assholes. I already drew you, though.”

If all of the times Ryan’s ever blushed in his life were somehow added together, it would not be as obvious has the heat emanating from his face as he takes the paper from Chris. He’s drawn, several times, in the cartoon style that Chris favors, which is evident by the solid lines and creative liberties he took. Ryan’s fingers trace over the steady lines that make up face, before his hand finds a note in the margin.

“That's pretty cocky,” he says, pointing to the note. “ _Text me sometime_? What if I don't?”

“Well, then this class will be very awkward,” Chris shrugs, winking. “And I'm not cocky. It's just me Irish charm.”

 

Lucky for both of them, the art class does not become awkward, because he texts Chris at lunch, asking him where he sits. Chris replies with several 4-leaf clovers, before explaining that he’s out with his host, Julian, and his boyfriend getting McDonalds.

“Who are you texting?” Matt asks, and Ryan sets his phone down to look at him.

He clears his throat. “One of the exchange students.”

“Which one?”

“Chris?”

“Oh, he's the Irish one, right?”

“Yeah,” Ryan's says. Matt reaches for his water and takes a sip. “He's gay.”

Matt makes a face, but laughs, “That's out of the blue. Okay, good for him?”

“So you don't care that he's gay?”

“No? Do you care or something?”

“Yeah, but not— I'm not homophobic,”

“Okay?”

“I’m just gay, I think. That’s why I care.”

Matt blinks. “Oh,”

“Yeah.”

“Right.”

“Uh,”

Tucker stands up. “You guys are fucking ridiculous. Thanks for sharing, Ryan. And thanks, by the way, for the 4am wake up text. I have to piss.”

They've both gone silent as Tucker walks away. “Is that okay?”

“What— of course it's okay, dude. I just,” Matt runs a hand through his hair. “that was really unexpected.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Matt pauses. “So, are you guys like dating now, or something?”

“No,” Ryan shrugs, looking at his phone as it lights up. “But he wants to hang out on Friday? His host is taking him on a tour of Columbia, apparently.”

Matt nods. “Oh, okay.”

“Yeah.”

“How did you know?” Matt asks after a second. “That you’re gay?”

“I don't know, I just—” Ryan shrugs. “He has a nice ass, you know? And nice smile and— I don't know.”

“Did you ever think you were gay before then? Before Chris?”

He shrugs, “Yeah, maybe? I mean I’ve definitely thought about—” Ryan reconsiders his words and continues hesitantly, “— _guys_ before. No one in particular or anything.” Yes, someone in particular. The guy sitting right next to him. Ryan holds his breath as he surveys Matt’s face for any reaction.

Matt’s quiet, before he’s loud, laughing and putting a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Well, good for you, dude! I need to meet this Chris guy sometime.”

“Really?”

“Of course, dude! You're my best friend!”

Something about the way Matt says that, or the strange glint in his eye almost makes Ryan ask him if Matt’s ever thought of him in the same way he has thought of Matt, but Tucker’s back and Matt’s hand is gone from his shoulder and the moment is lost.

* * *

 

After he gets home from school, Ryan realizes how odd it is that he came out to Matt and Tucker before he came out to his own mom. His mom gets home from school, and after she asks how his day was he simply answers with “I’m gay”, to which she blinks, but nods; she hugs him and presses a kiss to his head, telling him that she already knew, honey.

“How? I found out like two days ago.”

“Well, you and Matt were inseparable until freshman year— you’re dating Matt now, right?”

“Wha— no. I’m still mad at Matt.” Ryan tells her. She frowns, but he continues. “There’s this new exchange student, Chris. His eyes are so fucking nice—”

“ _Language,_ ”

“Sorry, mom.” He smiles sheepishly. “He’s just got these _eyes_.”

 

They don't do anything particularly special. Mostly drive, talk, exchange stories about significant places around Columbia. Chris’s host, Julian, drives, and Ryan’s squashed into the backseat with Chris so Julian can hold hands with his boyfriend.

“You guys are so gay.” Chris groans, nudging the seat in front of him. Ding Dong, the guy in the seat in front of him, swats at his head with his free hand.

“Yeah, we are.” Julian nods, “And so are you.”

Ryan laughs as Chris nods, settling back into his seat. “Fair point. Anyways, Ryan,”

“Yeah?”

“What's a good pizza place around here?”

“I could tell you a good pizza place around here,” Ding Dong tells him.

“Yeah, but I want to hear Ryan’s opinion, you dingus.”

“Nicky’s is pretty good?” Ryan shrugs.

“That’s what I would’ve said.” Ding Dong mumbles. Chris kicks his seat.

“Julian, you know how to get to Nicky’s?”

“Yeah, that’s where we had our first kiss, right D?”

Chris groans, but winks at Ryan and makes a kissy noise. Ryan laughs and elbows him, leaning into him for the rest of the ride; Chris doesn’t stop grinning until they make it into the restaurant.

 

Their stomachs warm and full of pizza, Chris talks about his home in Ireland the whole way back to Ryan’s house. He talks with his hands, or he talks with one hand, as the other is holding Ryan’s hand, occasionally squeezing it whenever he’s particularly excited about a tale from home.

When they get to Ryan’s house, Chris gets out of the car and holds the door open for Ryan. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

Ding Dong cackles. “You’re fucking ridiculous, Chris. I won’t let you live this down.”

“Fuck off, Ding Dong. It’s called a romantic gesture.” Chris mutters as he closes the door behind Ryan. He grins, laughter escaping his lips as Ryan reaches for his hand again. It’s calloused, tough and feels nice in his hand; he stops at his door and squeezes his hand.

“I had a lot of fun tonight, Chris.”

“Yeah, same here.” he nods, squeezing his hand back. Chris’s cheeks are tinted pink, whether from the cold air or the sense of longing in the air.

“Just kiss him already!” Ding Dong shouts from the car, only to have his head pulled back into the car by Julian.

Chris’s cheeks redden more, and this is the first time where Chris is fully flustered and he is not. Ryan feels his heart racing, and runs his tongue over his bottom lip before asking. “Well, are you going to kiss me or should I kiss you?”

Chris smiles wider, biting his lip and watching Ryan’s as he leans in quickly. This is his first kiss since Becca in his freshman year, but it’s significantly better. It’s less sticky and glossy, more chapped but firm, and Chris doesn’t waste time bringing his hand to Ryan’s cheek. Finally, they pull away, breathing quicker than before.

“So, can we do this again sometime?” Chris asks softly, lips redder than before.

“What, kiss? Or go out?” Ryan asks him.

“I was kind of thinking both.”

Ryan answers him by kissing him again, and they only pull away when Julian honks the horn of the car.


	8. Chapter 8

Ryan loses his virginity to Chris on May 20th. They discuss it while Ryan’s driving Chris, Ding Dong and Julian through Columbia and they’re trying to decide where to go for dinner.

“I’m good with whatever!” Ryan insists, glancing at Chris. “What do you want?”

“It depends,” he starts, and clears his throat, “do you want to have sex after?”

Ryan jerks the wheel, and Chris’s laughter blocks out Ding Dong and Julian’s complaints from the backseat.

“Um, okay?”

“We don’t have to have sex,” Chris says quickly.

“Can you stop the car, Ryan?” Ding Dong pokes his head in. “You guys are gross. I’m just going to walk.”

“No, I want to.” Ryan nods, ignoring Ding Dong, “I want to have sex with you.”

“Alright, maybe something light then?”

“Pasta maybe?”

“Pasta’s good.” Chris nods. “Or soup?”

“You guys are fucking ridiculous.” Julian laughs.

“Panera has both.”

“Panera it is,” Chris says, then pauses. “Wait, who’s gonna top who?”

“That’s it,” Ding Dong says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Don’t even bother stopping the car. This is my stop.” Julian immediately grabs for him, pulling him close and laughing into his neck as Ding Dong reaches for the handle of the car door.

 

Julian stays at Ding Dong’s for the night, and they continue their discussion from before.

“I think I should top,” Chris says, “Because I’ve topped before and I can explain how to prep and, yeah. Is that okay with you?”

“Can I shower at your place?” Ryan asks, face heating up. He feels his dick already begin to twitch in his jeans at the idea of being so exposed for Chris, someone he trusts and cares for. He imagines Chris holding his legs apart and bearing down on him. Chris definitely notices, and snakes a hand to Ryan’s leg to squeeze it reassuringly.

“Yeah, I probably will too.” He laughs. “But maybe next time, if you’re up for it, I’ll ride you or something?”

Ryan groans at that, chuckling in embarrassment as Chris laughs, pulling him in for a quick kiss when they’ve stopped at a red light.

 

Their first time is equal parts great and awkward. Ryan cums embarrassingly quickly, and despite Chris insisting that it’s fine, part of Ryan wants to curl up into a ball and disappear. Ryan makes up for this by jerking Chris off after they take off the condom, and feels guilty for staring at his uncircumcised head as he does so.

Chris swats his hand away jokingly, but then grabs his arm and squeezes it; his breathing his heavy as he laughs, “Dude, in Ireland being uncircumcised is normal.”

“It’s just, different, I guess?” Ryan says, pressing a kiss to the matted hair on Chris’s forehead. “I mean, I’ve only ever seen and touched my dick, and I’m circumcised.”

Ryan moves his other hand to rub at Chris’s balls, the way he likes it, and Chris moans shamelessly. He pulls Ryan in for a kiss when he cums, and Ryan doesn’t mean to make a face when he feels Chris’s cum hit his stomach, but Chris pulls away and smiles sheepishly, pausing to catch his breath before grabbing some tissues from his nightstand. “Sorry,”

Ryan is breathing heavy too, but he doesn’t quite know why. The excitement of getting another guy off, maybe? He’s too lost in thought to notice Chris swipe the cum off of his torso, but blinks back into reality in time to see Chris leaning in to peck him on the lips. “That was good. Was that okay for you?”

“Don’t lie,” Ryan scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m so weird.”

Chris guides him under the covers. “Relax, you’re just inexperienced. I’ve been there too, babe. You’re only my second, after all. We’ll just have to practice until we get better, okay?”

“Okay,” Ryan says, and his hand finds Chris’s under the blanket.

 

A week later they have sex again, and Chris rides Ryan and it’s like a whole new experience for him. Ryan grabs at Chris’s hips embarrassingly tight, but Chris seems to love the hard squeezes at his sides as his hands curl around Ryan’s shoulders, fucking himself. Seeing Chris so desperate and needy on his dick makes his stomach pool with excitement, and each whimper and moan from Chris’s mouth goes right to his dick. He’s better at keeping his composure this time, and Ryan manages to jerk Chris off so that they come at almost the same time.

Chris rolls off of Ryan, and Ryan ties off the condom and tosses it into the small garbage before joining Chris on the bed. “That,” Chris breathes out, “was fucking great.”

Ryan tries not to look too proud of himself as he turns off the lamp and kisses Chris goodnight.

* * *

 

After their junior year ends, their schedules finally line up enough so that Matt can meet Chris, Ding Dong and Julian; Tucker’s at an anniversary dinner with his girlfriend, but sends Ryan a _good luck with the whole ‘my-old-crush-is-meeting-my-boyfriend’ thing_ text, to his chagrin. Their finals were hell, and with the ACT and college plans already under their belts, they go to Nicky’s for some good pizza and laughs.

“So your name is Ding Dong?” Matt repeats, puzzled look forming on his face.

“That’s not my real name,” Ding Dong shrugs.

Chris scoffs, wrapping an arm around Ryan and leaning his head on his shoulder before continuing. “No duh, Dingus.”

“His real name is- Da” Julian is cut off my Ding Dong’s hands on his face, squishing and pinching his cheeks to stop the words from leaving his lips. Julian sputters once he is freed from Ding Dong’s hands, and rubs his cheeks as he frowns. “You didn’t have to pinch my face, D.”

Ding Dong is quick and snarky with his response, “You didn’t have to bring up my real name.” His hand finds his way back to Julian’s face, instead thumbing over the reddened skin on his cheek. Julian takes the hand from his face and presses a quick kiss to it, causing the other man to flush.

“He hates his real name, so we call him Ding Dong.” Julian says.

Matt nods, looking down at his shoes; Ryan feels guilt pool in his stomach for not informing him about the odd quirk sooner. But Chris kisses his neck, sloppy and wet, and the guilt is replaced with another feeling, a more preferred one.

“Why ‘Ding Dong’, though?” Matt asks.

“It’s German.” Ding Dong deadpans.

“His real name is Daveed.” Chris says, and laughs as Ding Dong begins to throw parmesan packets at him.

“Stop telling people my name!”

“David’s not a weird name,” Matt points out.

“Yeah, but it’s spelled funny.” Ding Dong huffs. “D-A-V-E-E-D.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because my parents hate me.”

Julian frowns. “Christa and Noah don’t hate you, Ding Dong.”

“They named my brother _Joseph_. Why does _he_ get the normally spelled name?” Ding Dong whines, but his frown dissolves as Julian laughs, squeezing his thigh casually.

When Matt excuses himself to refill his drink, Ding Dong smacks Julian. “Stop staring at his ass. I’m right here.”

“He’s an attractive man!” Julian says, but turns his attention back to his boyfriend.

“Yeah, but I’m also right here.”

“Wait,” Ryan frowns. “You guys think Matt’s hot?”

Ding Dong, Julian and Chris all nod.

“He’s got an innocent face,” Chris shrugs. “Love to see what he’s like in bed. Not that I ever would, I’m happy with how things are in bed already.” He winks.

“I can’t believe you all think he’s hot.”

“Don’t act like you don’t,” Ding Dong shrugs.

“I— he’s my friend!”

“So? Matt’s my friend, but I’d fuck him.” Julian says, mouthful of pizza.

Matt sits down, and Chris loses it as Julian begins stammering out a fragmented string of apologies and explanations.

“Nah, it’s fine.” Matt shrugs, swiping a fry from Ryan’s tray, he wants to comment that Matt has his own fries, but Matt winks at him, before turning his attention back to Julian. “Thanks, dude. I never really thought of myself as attractive to guys, so, thanks.” He laughs.

“Matt’s straight.” Ryan says quickly. Why does he care if Matt is straight? He doesn’t really know but maybe he’s eaten too much pizza, his stomach stirs. God, Ryan loves his boyfriend.

“Yeah,” Matt nods, but pauses. “Well, I think I am, anyway.”

Matt’s cheeks are tinted pink, and Ryan doesn’t even realize he’s blushing too until Chris pokes his cheek; Ryan distracts himself by pecking Chris on the lips. “Okay, dork.” Chris laughs, and it drowns out the thoughts in his head.

 

Julian drives Ding Dong and Chris home, leaving Ryan to drive Matt back to his house. It’s the first time he’s driven to Matt’s house since freshman year, and it makes like he can finally breathe again, now that he’s going back.

When they pull to a stop at the side of the road, Matt’s hand levitates over the door handle. “Hey, uh—” he smiles softly. Ryan doesn't understand the look in his eyes. “thanks. I'm glad I got to meet Chris.”

Ryan grins without even trying to. “Chris is awesome. He and the others seem to like you too, we should do this again sometime.”

“Yeah.” Matt nods, but his hand still lingers by the car door and Ryan realizes why his eyes are so clouded.

“You okay, dude?”

Matt blinks at him, rose hues painting his ivory face. He looks like a painting, with how the light of a passing car makes his eyes shine brighter. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry, I’m just a bit lost in thought.”

“Oh? What's up, Matt? Can I—” his words die on his lips, or rather, they die on Matt’s lips, which press against his. Ryan can feel eyelashes fluttering against his cheek, and he instinctively closes his eyes and brings a hand to Matt’s cheek, calloused fingertips running over the soft, pale, skin the way he’s always imagined.

Ryan pulls away. “Yeah.” Matt whispers.

“Oh,”

“Uh,” Matt says, louder now. His cheeks have exploded into violent shades of red, and Ryan stops himself from reaching out and touching them again. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“It's okay,” Ryan tells him immediately.

“No— no it's not!” Matt laughs, and his eyes glaze over with tears, “You have a boyfriend, you have Chris,” he repeats, over and over as he unlocks the door and makes his way towards the driveway.

This reminds Ryan of a younger version of himself. Part of him wants to drive off, like he did with Becca, but the louder voice in his head persuades him to get out as well, racing after Matt and grabbing his wrist.

Matt’s focus is at Ryan's lips, and he hates the way he sees every fragment of hope shatter in Matt’s eyes as they dart up to meet his own. Ryan pulls him into an embrace, and each tear he feels on his neck burns his skin.

“I'm sorry,” Matt repeats into his neck, like it could keep his secrets forever. Nails dig into his back and Ryan’s not even sure Matt’s talking to him. “I think I’m gay. That’s why I did that.”

“That's okay,” Ryan tells him. It has to be okay— what else can it be?

In their embrace, Ryan can feel Matt’s heartbeat underneath his shivering frame. Matt can probably hear his own too, it races in his chest like a lion; Ryan thinks back to when his mother told him that _two lovers’ hearts beat as one._ And honestly, he’s not sure whether he wants them to be in sync or not. Ryan has Chris. Ryan loves Chris, and while kissing Matt doesn’t change his feelings for Chris, it definitely reminds Ryan of the feelings he buried for Matt back in their freshman year. But suddenly, those feelings are unearthed, and he wants to grab Matt and kiss him again, but he can’t and it hurts him, maybe even as much as it hurts Matt knowing that he can’t love him, not right now. Matt’s taller than him, but he clings to Ryan’s jacket like he did all those years ago; Matt has begun to fill his thoughts again and Ryan feels guilty about letting him take over.

“It’s okay.” Ryan whispers at they pull away. He grabs Matt’s hand and squeezes them tightly in his hands, memorizing how they feel against his fingers. “But you know we can't do this. I can’t do that to Chris.”

Matt nods, and his lips form a tight line has he nods. Matt must have expected this outcome, but Ryan still watches his heart break in front of him as he lets go of Ryan, hands feeling colder now than ever before. Matt doesn't look back at him when he enters his house, and as Ryan pulls away in his car, he thinks back to Becca. Why was dropping her off so easy?

 

When he jerks off that evening, he whispers Matt’s name as he cums. It rolls off his tongue effortlessly, but it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that doesn't get better when Ryan brushes his teeth in the morning.

* * *

 

Julian, Ding Dong and Ryan take Chris to the airport in the middle of August. He and Chris had the whole night to talk about their relationship, how they’ll always be friends and keep in touch, and Ryan even tells Chris about what happened between him and Matt earlier in the summer; Chris tells him he doesn’t mind, and that he’s glad Ryan told him, but something about the kindness and understanding in his eyes makes Ryan feel even worse. Chris should be mad. Chris should yell and slap him and break up with him on bad terms. But instead they hold hands while Julian drives to the airport, and things are so _okay_ that it makes Ryan’s heart hurt, knowing that he’ll be saying goodbye to him. Ryan still cries like a baby when they make it to the airport, and Chris kisses him for the last time before heading down his concourse.

“Ryan?”

“Yeah,” he says, squeezing Chris’s hand. Chris sighs and brings his hands up to Ryan’s face..

“Date Matt.” He smiles and winks, making Ryan laugh through his tears. “Tell me about what he’s like in bed.”

 

Ryan’s at Matt’s house and he can't breathe. He got there from the airport, and his leg was bouncing the entire ride but now his feet just feel numb; he’s about to get out of his car when he sees the front door open and an unfamiliar man stands at the door. Matt leans against the frame and pushes at his chest, before tugging his collar so that they’re close and suddenly they’re kissing and Ryan wants to throw up. The man doesn’t notice him as he rolls out of the parking lot, but Matt sees the car and waits on his porch for Ryan to cross the street and see him.

“Hey,” Ryan says, heart racing.

“Hey.” Matt scratches the back of his neck. From the exposed skin, Ryan can see a hickey blooming on his skin.

“Who was that?” Ryan asks, not evening thinking. Matt’s face heats up.

“That’s Ross.”

“Are you dating him?”

“Wh—” Matt laughs, and Ryan watches Matt take his swollen bottom lip between his teeth. “He’s just— helping me.”

“ _Helping you?”_

“You know,” he looks down at his feet. “I just— when I kissed you, that night. I didn’t know what I was, and I thought maybe—” he laughs again, shaking his head. “I don’t know. But Ross was in my econ class, and we hit it off, and he’s gay, and so he offered to help me figure out what I was.”

“So what are you?”

“I’m— I’m bi, I think.” Matt nods, smiling softly. “It’s nice, saying it out loud like that.”

“Yeah.” Ryan nods, remembering the weight off his shoulders when he told Matt. “That’s great. I’m real happy for you, dude.”

“Thanks,” Matt smiles, but glances at his car. “Isn’t Chris with you?”

“Oh,” _shit._ “Nah, actually. He, uh. He went back home?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” he nods, before blurting out. “We broke up.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Matt frowns. “I’m sure you guys will get back together. You'll find a way to make the distance work.”

Part of Ryan wants to say _I don’t want to find a way to make the distance work with Chris. I want to ask you to go to get coffee with me sometime_ but he instead nods and says “yeah.”

Matt nods too. “Yeah. So. What’s up?”

Ryan suddenly forgets why he thought this was a good idea. “Oh, I just was driving home, and I wanted to say hi, but I saw Ross leaving your house and…” his mouth is dry. “So, are you guys like a fling or something?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Matt says quickly. “Just a summer fling.”

“Good. I mean—” Ryan makes a face, before blurting out the first thing that came to his mind. “He’s attractive.”

Matt laughs, “Yeah, he’s great.”

Ryan nods for what seems to be the tenth time. “Well, I’m glad you found someone who could help you find out what you are.”

“Yeah, me too.” Matt grins, but his eyes don’t have the same bright glint in them like they usually do.

 

When Ryan pulls into his driveway, he hits his head on the steering wheel four times before getting out of the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is chapter 8/10, but chapter 9 is the last chapter (technically) and the tenth segment is the epilogue. So I wanted to take this time to say thanks for joining me on this experience, I plan on editing and rewriting this and revising it, and I'm looking into self publishing, but that won't be for a while. When I do though, I plan on adding content in the book so please keep your eyes peeled for any information on my blog @ chratt on Tumblr!


	9. Chapter 9

Matt doesn't greet Ryan when he shows up at his house. Fall is a month of feeling disconnected, and Ryan doesn't ask when he sees Matt’s teary eyes. Instead he takes Matt into his arms and ushers him to his bedroom, avoiding the concerned look in his mother’s eyes.

“Ryan?”

“Yeah.”

“I don't know what to do.” He whispers into Ryan’s neck. Ryan leans his head on Matt’s shoulder, rubbing shapes into his back.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Matt laughs and sniffles, “I just don't know what I want anymore.”

Ryan doesn't know what to say, but his chest tightens and he runs a hand through Matt’s hair. This is the first time in a long while that both he and Matt are single, and there are a million thoughts racing through his mind as he ignores them all, pressing a kiss to Matt’s head.

“My parents are set on me going to Carolina, like Sam did, but I don't know what if I want to anymore. And it’ll kill them if I don't but I just don't know what I'm going to do, Ryan.”

“It won't kill them, Matt.”

“But I don’t even know whether I want to go to college anymore. But I have no plan, I’m can’t take care of myself,” Ryan feels tears on his neck, “I’m just really- I can’t. I don’t know.”

“I’m going to California, I think. I’m not planning on going to college now.” Matt’s quiet, and Ryan fills the space by rambling on, “I want to be a filmmaker, and I think I can make it big there. But I won't know anyone, and I might not make it, but—” Ryan sighs, murmuring into Matt’s hair. “I have to do this, you know?”

“Yeah.” Matt whispers.

“You could come with me,” Ryan blurts out. He can't feel Matt’s breathing stop for a second. “To California.” He clarifies.

“Ryan,” Matt sighs. “I don't know.”

“I don't either,” Ryan points out, and Matt pries himself from Ryan’s embrace to look at him. His eyes are clouded with thought, and Ryan wishes he could be the guiding light for him, but knows that Matt can only guide himself. “I don't know if I’ll be able to stay in Columbia much longer. I’ve got big city dreams.”

Matt nods, bringing a hand up to Ryan’s cheek. Ryan mimics the action, wiping a tear from Matt’s cheekbone. “What if we don't make it?”

“Then we make something work.”

“I don't know,” Matt repeats.

“You don’t have to know right now. It’ll always be an offer for you.”

Matt smiles mirthlessly. “Will you wait for me in California, Ryan?”

“Of course I will, Matt.”

He sees Matt’s eyes flit down to his lips, and Ryan watches as Matt’s tongue smears across the faded pink of his lips. But in an instant, the moment is gone and Matt leans his head on Ryan’s shoulder again.

“I think I just realized my parents are idiots.”

Ryan laughs, squeezing Matt's shoulder. “They kind of are. But so are mine.”

“I mean—” Matt’s fingers find their way to Ryan’s neck, thin digits carving unspoken words into his skin. “They're just people, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“But I’m not sure I could pick up and leave them here.”

“Yeah.”

“And I can’t leave my childhood memories here.”

“Yeah.”

“But I’m not sure I could stand being that far away from you,” Matt laughs.

“Me neither.” Ryan admits. “But you don't have to be,”

Matt’s quiet, and he lifts his head to watch Ryan. His thin fingers find their way to Ryan’s lips and they run over them slowly, Matt’s eyes never leaving his parted mouth. Ryan grabs Matt’s hand, and notices how his fingers manage to curl around his frail wrist. He looks up to see Matt’s blue eyes burning into him, and memorizes the feeling of Matt’s breath hitting his face, the look in his eyes as they both slowly lean it.

It’s like Ryan’s forgotten how to kiss. He can hardly remember to breathe as he focuses on the feeling of Matt’s lips on his. They burn against his lips and cause his fingertips to tingle, but he falls in love with the way his heart both stills and races.

Matt pulls away, eyes on the floor and cheeks red. “Um,” he says.

“Uh,” Ryan clears his throat, letting go of Matt’s wrist. Matt shifts against him.

“I don’t know if I can do this right now.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I’m no good at apologies. You know that,” Matt says. Ryan nods. “But I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’ve been such an asshole to you.” He leans onto Ryan again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan repeats, feeling his heart drop into his stomach, “You don’t know what you want right now.”

Matt’s gone quiet, and Ryan is thankful for the silence as he brings a hand to Matt’s hair, running his fingers through it absently. They stay like this, quiet and still, until Matt falls asleep wrapped around Ryan. He only wakes up when Ryan’s mom knocks on the door, telling them that dinner will be ready soon and that Matt is welcome to join them.

“I should go home, actually. Thank you, though.” Matt smiles softly as Ryan’s mom, and she nods, smiling and closing the door again.

“I’ll walk you out?” Ryan asks. Matt nods, taking Ryan’s hand as they make their way out of the house.

“You know, that night with Chris, Ding Dong and Julian,” Matt says, stopping when they reach the driveway. “I was going to tell you something.”

“What was that?”

“I think— I think I’m in love with you.” He whispers, squeezing his hand. “I think I’ve always been in love with you.”

“Me too,” Ryan tells him.

“I think we should just be secretly in love with each other and keep it at that.” Matt sighs. “Until I find out what I want.”

Ryan nods, and watches Matt as he gets in his car and drives away.

* * *

 

As per Matt’s request, Ryan goes to senior Prom. Neither of them went last year, but now Ross and his friends want Matt to go, and Matt wants Ryan to go, and if Ryan doesn't go Matt won't go and then Ross and his friends will hate Ryan for stopping Matt from going. At least, that's the argument Matt made.

“Dude, you could've just bought me lunch for like, a week.” Ryan says, fidgeting with his tie.

“Stop messing with your tie, dude.” Matt huffs, swatting his hands away and choosing to retie the tie himself. Ryan tries not to notice how his own breath stutters as he looks at Matt, and how Matt’s breath does the same as their eyes meet for a second.

“Matt? Ryan? Are you two ready for pictures?” Ryan’s mom calls out.

When they emerge from Ryan’s bedroom, both sets of their parents are there with cameras out. Ryan frowns, covering his face. “Gosh, mom.”

“What? You haven’t been to a dance since your freshman year! You two look so handsome!” She says, and Matt grabs the hand that’s shielding Ryan’s face, squeezing it tightly in his own as he grins for pictures. Ryan sighs contently as he sees the pink hues painting Matt’s face, and Matt glances at him and smiles back.

“Stop staring at each other,” Matt’s mom tells them, “and smile for the camera!”

 

Ryan wonders if this is how Matt felt meeting Ding Dong and Julian for the first time. He drums his fingers against the back of his phone anxiously, glancing around the venue as if it were a foreign country. Ross is in their group, and while Matt mentioned him bringing a date, Ryan’s stomach lurches at the idea of Matt’s ex so close with him all evening.

“Matt!” a voice rings out, and they turn.

“Hey, Suze!” Matt says, and suddenly there are strangers in front of Ryan and he feels like an idiot. “I’m not sure any of you know my friend Ryan,”

“Oh, we have Computer Apps together!” Barry— Ryan now recognizes him— smiles. He sees Barry’s arm intertwined with another, and he blinks as he also recognizes Ross to be the counterpart.

“I’m Ross, I’m not sure we’ve met.” Ross says, using his free hand to reach out and shake Ryan’s. “Matt’s told me loads about you, though.” He winks, and Ryan watches Matt flush.

“Yeah, you too.” Ryan takes his hand. Suddenly, he’s not so afraid anymore.

“I’m Arin, this is Suzy,” Arin waves, and Suzy grins at him. Ryan’s heard their names before, and he assumes that they’re just well liked people in the grade, but when he blinks back to reality, Suzy is braiding a piece of Arin’s hair and honestly, what’s not to like about them?

The last two he meets are Danny and Holly, who arrive late because of ‘an emergency’.

“You know, when you texted me that, I thought you meant your car, like exploded.” Arin points out when they walk up to the group.

“It was an emergency!” Dan explains, “Holly forgot to feed her birds!”

“Well, the gang’s all here, should we go have the best night of our lives?” Suzy asks, tugging Arin towards the entrance.

As they enter under the balloon bridge, Ryan realizes that he and Matt are the only two single people in their group, and probably the only two single people at the prom, but maybe that’s okay, Ryan decides as Matt glances at him.

 

Prom King and Queen get announced within the last thirty minutes of the dance. Arin and Suzy win, which doesn’t surprise Ryan, even as Arin turns down the crown in favor of wearing the tiara. The DJ puts on a song that Ryan cannot seem to name, and as the couples begin to dance, Ryan looks through the mob of love-stricken people; he only catches Matt’s eyes for a second, before he vanishes out of the ballroom.

“Hey,” Ryan says, frowning as he sees Matt leaning against the sink. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he smiles back, but it lacks mirth as he continues, “just needed some space, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Ryan nods, before reluctantly adding “should I go, then?”

Matt shakes his head. “No, I want you to stay.”

“Okay,” Ryan says, and he stays.

 

The title and band are still lost to him, Ryan manages to remember most of the lyrics as he sheepishly says them along with the music which trails through the bathroom; he holds an outstretched hand to Matt. “ _If you want to tell me something, you better make it strong_ — C’mon, Matt. Dance with me?”

Matt looks at him and laughs, but takes his hand and pulls him close.

Their foreheads brush together as Ryan’s hands find their way to Matt’s waist. Matt’s fingers trace shapes and apologies into his shoulders, but they both listen to the song without saying any of the words they want to.

“Why did things have to get so weird between us?” Matt sighs into Ryan’s neck. “Why did I have to make things weird?”

“Stop blaming yourself, Matt.” He murmurs back, “Maybe we’re just not meant to be normal.”

Matt doesn’t say anything else, moving closer and resting his head in the crook of Ryan’s shoulder and whispering the words of the song to him. Ryan’s knows the song now, and sings the words right back to Matt.

* * *

 

The day of graduation, Matt and Ryan’s parents both suggest they go to the Myrtle Beach fair, “as part of the tradition!”, according to Matt’s mom. But now, things are a little different, and the parents take one car as Ryan drives himself and Matt. The six of them have dinner together, and enjoy walking through memory lane, but when the lights of the Ferris Wheel flicker on after the sun begins to set, they part with their parents and make their way towards the giant contraption, saying goodbyes and promises to make it home at a semi-reasonable time. The Ferris Wheel beckons to them like it’s calling them home after a long journey, and the air floods with a sense of nostalgia and yearning as they’re pulled towards the clouds.

 

“This thing is a lot more rickety than I remember,” Matt comments, “and dirtier.”

“Yeah. But— ” Ryan smiles distractedly, “didn’t you used to be terrified of heights?”

Matt laughs; when Matt’s fingers find Ryan’s, Ryan is brought back to reality and Matt sighs. “Yeah, but I’m not afraid anymore.”

Ryan squeezes his hand. “I’m glad.”

They’re quiet, enjoying each other and the cool air, as Matt leans his head on Ryan’s shoulder. “Is that offer for California still valid?”

Ryan’s heart jumps in his chest. “Of course it is,” he murmurs into Matt’s hair. “I told you, that offer will always be there for you.”

Matt presses a kiss to Ryan’s shoulder. “Well, then it looks like I’ll be going to California with you.” Ryan grins, but Matt continues before he can open his mouth. “Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember in the fifth grade, when I said I wanted to kiss Ashley Waters on this Ferris Wheel?”

“Yeah, I remember that.” Ryan laughs, unlacing their hands but wrapping his arm around Matt’s waist. Matt grins against his shoulder, before sitting up straighter and looking at Ryan with his oceans of vulnerability.

“I still think this would be the best place to have a first kiss.”

“We did have our first kiss here. In the fifth grade.”

“Yeah, and we kissed that night last summer, too.” Matt points out. “But, I want to give this— _us_ , a try. We’ve been going back and forth, and—”

“Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.” Ryan says, before leaning in.

 

Ryan pulls the car over on an empty road as soon as he feels Matt’s hand on his knee start travelling higher and higher. He grabs Matt’s chin and kisses him, hard and desperate, and Matt’s hand moves from Ryan’s thigh to the his seat; the car seat slides back with the help of Ryan’s hand pulling the lever underneath, and after undoing his seatbelt, he lets himself lie back as the seat shifts back.

Matt’s humming now, sliding over the center console. Ryan’s hands immediately go to the knife-ends of Matt’s hips, guiding him as he straddles Ryan’s torso.

“I don’t know if I want the first time we fuck to be in my shitty car, Matt.” Ryan says, but he pushes Matt against the steering wheel and lets his fingertips graze the skin under his thin shirt. Matt is like putty in Ryan’s hands, moving under his control as he lifts his arms up; Ryan lifts the shirt off of him and tosses it in the back. When Matt brings his arms down, his elbow hits the horn, making Matt jump.

Ryan laughs. “See? It’s cramped in here and it smells like popcorn.”

Matt smiles as he presses his hands on Ryan’s chest, grinding down on him in a swift movement; his fingers curling and the softest whimper escapes his lips. Ryan puts his hand back on Matt’s torso, running a finger up his torso slowly, as his other hand feathers over his dick. Matt gasps and his hips stutter forward.

“We could be fucking back at home,” Ryan murmurs, slowly unzipping Matt’s jeans.

“Our parents are still at the fair. We could be fucking on the living room couch,” he hums, dragging a hand up to Matt’s neck and beckoning him to lean in. Their breaths intermingle as Ryan slips his hand under Matt’s jeans, palming him through his boxers, and Ryan feels his own dick twitch in his shorts as Matt squirms on top of him.

“Or maybe fucking you against the wall,” He offers, and Matt leans in to bite his lower lip.

“Please, Ryan,” he pants out, thrusting down on Ryan shamelessly.

Ryan obliges, wriggling into the back seat for more room. “I’m just saying, we could be having sex at home.”

Matt’s head hits the roof of the car, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he shimmies out of his pants. He straddles Ryan again, and Ryan immediately brings two fingers to Matt’s lips. “Suck.” he tells him.

Matt’s eyes cloud over as he takes the fingers into his mouth. His eyes don’t leave Ryan’s, and his tongue swirling around his digits makes Ryan let out a low groan, rolling his hips under Matt.

“Do you know how fucking beautiful you are, Matt?” Ryan breathes out. Matt’s lips curl into a grin around Ryan’s fingers. “Beautiful fucking princess.”

Matt moans send vibrations from Ryan’s fingers straight to his dick, and Ryan nods, before pulling his fingers out of Matt’s mouth, “Alright, let’s flip over.”

After maneuvering their way through the car, Matt’s leaned against the car door, leg wrapped around the passenger seat and the other drapes off the seat as Ryan settles on the seat next to him. His fingers are slick with Matt’s saliva, but Matt insists that he needs Ryan to do something, _anything_ to him, so Ryan slides a finger inside him. After a moment he adds another, and soon he’s fucking Matt with his fingers, biting his lip as he listens to the hot and needy whines coming from Matt’s mouth. Matt’s dick is practically throbbing, and Ryan swipes a droplet of precum off the head, making the other man cry out.

“Ryan, I need you. I’m ready.” Matt breathes out, and Ryan removes his fingers and wipes them off onto Matt’s discarded shirt.

“I don’t have a condom.” Ryan says suddenly, face heating up.

Matt pauses, but runs a hand through the matted hair on his forehead as he smiles. “S’okay. I trust you, Ryan.”

Hearing that almost makes Ryan cum on the spot.

He’s about to spit into his hand, since lube isn’t an option for them, when Matt presses a hand to his chest, tugging his shorts down and flipping over to his stomach. “I want to suck you off,” Matt tells him, and Ryan thinks that he’s died and has gone to heaven.

Within seconds, Matt’s licking a long stripe up the center of his dick, which earns a grunt from Ryan, whose hands tangle in Matt’s hair. Ryan notices Matt jerking himself off slowly, in sync with his head bobbing, and seeing Matt’s hips stutter forward onto the car seat makes his dick twitch (or maybe Matt’s tongue swiping across the slit on his head is what makes his stomach begin to churn with excitement).

The exhibitionist inside of Ryan definitely clouds his sense of danger as lights fill the car for a second, as a truck passes them by. He tugs at Matt’s hair again and Matt’s eyes flutter open to look at him, and a string of saliva connects Matt’s swollen lips and the head of Ryan’s cock as he smirks and pulls up, pushing Ryan so that he settles on the back seat and he’s hovering on top of him.

They lock eyes, and Matt’s ajar lips curl upwards as his breathing steadies, before Matt lines himself on Ryan’s dick and suddenly Ryan can’t breathe. The feeling of Matt sinking down on his dick makes his moans die on his tongue, and Matt’s whimpers fill the car as he bottoms out. Ryan feels Matt’s nails dig through his t-shirt and into his skin, but he hardly cares because Matt suddenly shifts his hips and they both moan, and he does it again, and again, and again. Once Ryan can process everything he takes of of Matt’s hands squeezes is it. Matt grins, his half lidded eyes focusing on Ryan. their breathing is becoming erratic and Ryan bends Matt towards him, kissing him with sloppy mouths and exchanging filthy words.

When they pull away, Matt’s eyes are wide pools of trust and Ryan’s drowning in it. He braces himself for his own orgasm but it still surprises him as he rides it out inside of Matt, and soon Matt’s clenched around him, hips moving through his own aftershocks.

 

Matt wipes his own cum off of the backseat with his shirt, but grimaces as he notices Ryan’s eyes on the trail of cum down his legs. “You’re a kinky guy, Ryan.” He scoffs, cleaning his lower half off with the dirty shirt

“Says the one who insisted on barebacking in my car.”

“Shut up. You enjoyed it.” Matt yawns, folding his arms. Ryan takes off his jacket and hands it to Matt, who slides it on and smiling faintly at the warmth. “I still can’t believe you didn’t take any of your clothes off.”

Ryan laughs, but grabs Matt’s shoulder to bring him in for a soft kiss. Matt’s eyelashes flutter against his cheek, and it’s like all of things he’s ever wanted to say to Matt, that weight on his shoulders, is finally gone. “Are you ready to go home?” He asks, moving back into the driver's seat.

Matt slips on his underwear and grins, sleepily but buzzed at the same time as he crawls back into the passenger seat. “Yeah, let’s go.”

So they go home.


	10. Epilogue

Their apartment isn’t luxurious, but it’s enough to make Ryan proud as the last of their belongings are carried into the room. Immediately, Ryan digs into his pocket to find his lighter and cigarettes, igniting one after opening the small window. Matt appears from the bedroom, setting a tin ashtray onto the ledge next to him.

“I wish you'd stop with that,” Matt takes the cigarette from Ryan’s lips and brings it to his own. He exhales a puff of smoke and grimaces, handing it back to Ryan. “It's gonna smell up the whole apartment.”

“Moving is stressful,” he shrugs, leaning his elbows onto the window ledge. “I'm not in love with smoking, I just like getting fresh air.”

Matt scoffs, “Getting fresh air by smoking? I'm not in love with you smoking, either,” Matt frowns, but leans forward and presses a cheeky kiss to Ryan’s temple. “But I’m in love with you.”

Ryan glances at Matt, lips forming a grin around the cigarette. “Dude, I can't take you seriously when you don't shave.”

Matt shoves him, before standing up straighter and bringing a hand up to feel his chin. “Fuck off, I can’t grow a beard as well as you.”

“Yeah, I see that.” He retorts, no bite in his words as his eyes follow Matt.

“I’ll shave when I find my razor.” Matt tells him, glancing over at the pile of boxes.

“It’s in the box labelled ‘bathroom’, I think.” Ryan says.

“See? That’s why you’re the smart one in the relationship.”

“Yeah, you’re just the eye-candy.” Ryan says effortlessly, fixing his hair under his hat and winking at Matt, who chuckles and looks around the bare apartment.

“It’s going to take a while to get everything unpacked,” Matt says, inspecting the boxes of memories surrounding him in the room.

“We have time,” Ryan tells him.

Matt nods, “I’m the only one you know in this city. Sure you won’t get tired of me?”

“I could never get tired of you, beautiful.”

Ryan grins as he watches Matt’s face flush. He puts out his cigarette and moves to join Matt in the center of the room, taking his hand in his own.

“It’s not too late to turn back,” Matt says.

“I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted, right here.” Ryan tells him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Ryan pauses, “Except maybe a dog. We should get a dog.”

Matt’s face scrunches up. “A dog would make a mess of the apartment. If anything, we should get a cat.”

“I love you, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ryan, I’ve known you for thirteen years now and I’ve loved you for at least five of them.” Matt tells him, moving his free hand to Ryan’s side and squeezing it softly. “But you’re a fucking idiot if you think a dog would be a good idea in this apartment.”

“Maybe not right now!” Ryan exclaims softly, moving his free hand to Matt’s neck and holding him close. “Just eventually.”

“Yeah, eventually.” Matt sighs into Ryan’s shoulder. “What a word that is.”

They stay like this, in the center of mounds of boxes, for a while; Matt breaks the comfortable silence by pulling away and inhaling. “You smell like smoke.” he sighs, touching their foreheads together.

“I’d shower but you don’t seem to want to let go.” Ryan mumbles back, pressing their lips together for a brief moment.

“No, I like it.” Matt murmurs into the kiss, before pulling away to ask, “Is that weird?”

“Yeah, sort of.” Ryan hums, kissing him again. “But I like weird.”

Matt smiles. “I like weird, too.”

Ryan grins, letting their teeth clash briefly in the kiss before pulling away to check his phone. “It’s 2:00 in the morning in Columbia right now. Should we call it a night?”

“Wait.” Matt pulls Ryan towards the door. “I think there’s stairs that can take us to the roof. Want to try and see the stars?”

“We’re in L.A., they won’t be as nice as they were back home. Not with all the light pollution.” Ryan comments, but Matt tugs him towards the door and Ryan can’t compete with those puppy dog eyes and pouty lips, can he?

 

It’s empty on the top of the roof, but they lean on the railing and watch the stars— not the ones in the sky, but the constant lights from other buildings, other apartments, other lives. It makes Ryan feel very, very small, but he looks at Matt, who looks at him like he’s seeing the moon for the first time, and Ryan doesn’t feel so small anymore. He wraps his arm around Matt and runs his fingers over his hip.

“Not as tall as the Myrtle Beach ferris wheel,” Matt hums lowly, “but a nice view, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” Ryan says, eyes not leaving Matt. “Absolutely beautiful.”

Matt rolls his eyes and nudges him, but then pulls him in for a kiss. “That was so fucking cheesy.”

“What can I say? You make me do cheesy things sometimes.”

Matt laughs, familiar and soft, but frowns as Ryan pulls away from him, standing in the middle of the floor and looking up at the sky.

“I’m at the top of the world!” Ryan shouts.

Matt laughs, eyes crinkling as he joins Ryan and shouts back, “I’m at the top of the world!”

“We’re at the top of the world!” Ryan shouts, grabbing Matt’s hand.

“We’re at the top of the world!” Matt repeats, squeezing his hand.

And they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of your love and support, follow me @ chratt on Tumblr to hear my next big ideas or talk more about TCOTN because it's definitely not over just yet(: xx <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it, please feel free to comment and kudos, those make me really happy, and for updates/more information check out my blog @ chratt.tumblr.com


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